I Am Jack's Island Mind
by TheInvincible316
Summary: Ch. 9 Added. Continued from Secret Bloodlines. His past. His future. His friends. His family ... His worst enemy. How to keep them all separate, when so many of these things are one and the same?
1. I Am Jack's Blinding Hatred

Prologue: I Am Jack's Blinding Hatred

_Russia. So cold, so quiet. Even after the fall of the Soviets, it is still the world's largest nation. And yet, despite its considerable size, it is so sparsely populated. Those tiny people, like rats, occupy only one small area, oblivious to the fact that there is so much world out there to see, to explore…to conquer. Oh, well. More world to conquer for me._

_Siberia. Desolate. Empty. Silent. Such a beautiful land, and so unforgiving. No one even dares to come out this far. They are afraid. They fear the uncertainty of the land, the cold, and the solitude. They are afraid. They fear the winds so strong that vision is a liability, the want of sun due to the thickness of the clouds, the harshness of nature in its purest form. They are afraid._

_It suits me so well._

_The Krack-Karov Volcano. A masterpiece of nature. A work of genius in its simplicity. So simple are the mechanics of an active volcano; either it erupts or it doesn't. It spreads a deadly river of molten rock over the earth, or it doesn't. It destroys everything in its path, or it doesn't. So beautiful. So random. So simple._

_I don't like simple._

_That is why I built this place. I set up my base in the most perfect landmark in the most desolate reaches of the farthest corner of the planet. Hand in hand with the masterworks of science and nature, I will use this claw to strike through the very souls of my enemies. From this desolate land, I will soon rise to rule this world as the Supreme Being that I am. 'All hail Clockwerk!' they will proclaim, as they marvel at my excellence. But my mission is not yet complete. He will arrive soon, and when I finish him, there will be none to stand in my way. I will succeed, for I am superior._

_CLOCKWERK'S LOG ENTRY RECORDED AND SAVED_

He sat on his pedestal, in the highest point of his tower, motionless, silent and cold as the technology that surrounded him. Towers upon walls of computers and data banks crowded around him, dwarfing him despite his massive size. They all reached out to him with their wires and light beams, feeding him, sustaining him. He sat, motionless, completely integrated into the knowledge around him, absorbing it, melding with it. Indeed, he had become knowledge, brainpower, intelligence itself. It was his ideal existence. He was the nerve center of a budding empire, he was the controller of everything around him, and soon he would control even more.

His Death Ray Tower was nearly complete. Despite his stillness, his minions would continue to work around him, receiving his orders through an electronic connection to his mainframe. His plan of defense was seemingly flawless, but as any genius knows, not all plans succeed as they were originally intended. He needed to prepare his contingencies. His yellow eyes flashed open and focused on a monitor welded into a wall across the room. As if guided by his will, the screen flashed on and displayed to him the inner workings of his laboratory. One of his robotic lackeys, a small wood owl, noticed the screen behind him turn on, and quickly placed his tools down to acknowledge it.

"Good evening, Master," he droned. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Spare the pleasantries, 26," Clockwerk responded. He had neither need nor desire to name each of his underlings, so he referred to them by numbers. "I need to know the progress of '_Project: Revival'_. Are the vessels responding to the artificial intelligence program you've developed?"

26 guided the camera toward a row of giant glass tubes. Inside each one was a fully-grown raccoon, gray and black fur matted to their skin due to the moisture of their environment. They didn't move, speak, or even breathe. They just floated there, in a solution of questionable origin. After transmitting a suitable visual, 26 stepped in front of the camera.

"These are the ones that we've been able to keep alive in cryostasis. Unfortunately, there are not many possible candidates among them. So far they have all rejected the protocol, and there is only one test subject left,"

Clockwerk silently cursed the incompetence of his scientific division, and finally spoke again after an uncomfortable silence.

"26, you disappoint me. If this is the best you can do, I wonder if my organization would be better off without you,"

"Sir, what do you mean by that?" the lab technician asked.

"I created you and every other subordinate in my ranks. I hold the key to your destruction right here. And, look, it appears that my talon is hovering over your termination switch right now," he scowled, as his leg reached out to an adjacent control panel.

"26, your services are no longer required,"

_Click._

Instantly, the small owl had powered down and fell apart in his standing position. A custodial crew arrived within seconds to carry off the debris. A second bird scientist, a black falcon, stepped in front of the camera.

"How may I serve you, Master?"

"Number 48, access the data banks and get me a background on the remaining test subject. I want to know as much as possible about my prospective heir,"

"Yes, Master. I will put the information through to your central processor immediately. You should be receiving it in your tower soon," the assistant said as he typed into a keyboard next to the camera.

Nearly four seconds later, an image flashed onto another monitor.

_ACCESSING DATA BANK:…_

_REFERENCE: PROJECT REVIVAL…_

_TEST SUBJECT: A-10-HX_

_DATE OF RECORDING: JUNE 13, 1982_

_"Master Clockwerk, we've been tracking the traveling patterns of James L. Cooper. We believe we know where he is headed next. Should we prepare the strike team, sir?"_

_"No. I want the satisfaction of killing him myself. Besides, I hear he will be married soon. We will wait for at least ten more years. By then his children will be grown enough. I want his death to mean something more than placating my own hatred. I want a family from which to take him. Imagine how crushed they will be. It will be spectacular,"_

_"Sir, I don't understand. Why not kill him now and be done with it?"_

_"I have other plans for them. That should be enough for you. Now then, have you found a suitable subject for Project Revival? I would much like to see the fruits of your search,"_

_"Sir, I have found a passable subject. Take a look at this. Name: Diana W. Stavros. Date of Birth: 2/18/58. Place of Birth: Grevena, Greece, but currently residing in Tokyo, Japan. She's not of their bloodline, but she bears a striking resemblance," _

_"Excellent. Send a retrieval team and have her brought here as soon as possible. How is work proceeding on the genetic transmitters?"_

_"Splendidly, sir. Ever since our scientists succeeded in totally mapping your genome, we've been progressing way ahead of schedule. We have developed microscopic nanocomputers, capable of trapping airborne amino acids and constructing proteins into your exact genetic layout. In addition, these tiny computers are capable of passing that information on through the process of conception, almost as well as their biological counterparts. I dare say, you may be able to call any successful test subjects 'son' or 'daughter',"_

_"I prefer not to use endearing terms like that. These things that we will create are naught but vessels for me to occupy, should the need ever arise. I will live forever, one way or another. Have the scientists completed the Artificial Memory Assimilator?"_

_"They have, Master. Once the test subjects come of age, they will be subjected to a computer simulation that will form the basis of their memories. In essence, they will believe whatever you want them to believe,"_

_"And after that?"_

_"After that, they will be kept in cryostasis until you decide to release them. At that time, you will become a part of their psyche, controlling their actions and their thoughts. Thus, you are reborn,"_

_"Impressive. This project may prove to be worth something after all,"_

As the voice data recording ended, Clockwerk perched in silence, contemplating the conversation he had just reviewed.

_Damn the fact that I had so much hubris back then. I would try not to be so proud in the future, but it is impossibly difficult to overlook my perfection. _

"Sir, I just received word from the technicians in the cryogenics lab. It appears that the final test subject has accepted the program. Project: Revival has been deemed a success,"

"Excellent, 48. Have the subject taken to suspended animation and await further instructions,"

"Aye, sir," 48 responded, immediately cut off by the klaxon blare of the red alert. Flashing crimson filled every room of the tower as armed avians filled the skies around it. Through it all Clockwerk remained still, maintaining his communication with Number 48.

"Has he arrived?" he croaked in a metallic tone.

"Yes, sir. The Cooper van has begun its approach on the tower. We'll send in the airborne fighters to combat them,"

"Has the rest of the Fiendish Five been mobilized?"

"Sir, they have all been defeated by Cooper and arrested by the police. We've lost all contact with the rest of their cronies," 48 said, looking up from a clipboard he had snatched off a table.

"Then I will fight him alone," Clockwerk said, finally beating his wings and becoming airborne. "Protect the subject at all costs. If it looks like the tower will not survive the battle, then take it somewhere safe and wait for my orders,"

"Yes, sir. I will proceed accordingly," 48 saluted, then the visual connection severed, leaving the screen with a white flash, and then blank. Nothing.

_So, Sly Cooper, the day has come at last when you will avenge the death of your father. I hate to disappoint you, but you will die tonight as well. You will not stop me. I am superior…_

_LOG ENTRY RECORDED. CLOCKWERK'S LOG SAVED AND DISCONTINUED._


	2. I Am Jack's Reformed Morals

Chapter 1: I Am Jack's Reformed Morals

It was a night just like any other. The sun had left the sky as it had done at the end of every day, and the moon had risen as it had at the start of every night. It was dark, but the bleeding crimson visage of the setting sun still claimed a portion of the skyline. However, there was something happening this night that no other night could claim happened therein. The silhouette of an illustrious master thief claimed his own portion of the skyline, and tonight, he was laying in wait on the roof to do the unthinkable: he was going to break into the museum below, and put something back. After scanning his surroundings for anything out of the ordinary, he pressed the side of his ear to activate his miniature headset.

"Ah, good ol' Takinahara. The place that started it all. Have you scoped out the interior, buddy?" he whispered softly.

Blocks away, the Cooper team van was tucked safely away from all the action and potential danger. Though the entire Cooper Gang's presence wasn't technically required for this particular job, they still insisted to come along to serve as moral support. His proverbial eyes and ears turned from his monitors and notes and regarded Sly in a cynical tone.

"I haven't been knitting Christmas sweaters all night, I'll tell you that,"

"No need to get snippy, alright? I just want to make sure we're moving according to plan," Sly replied, putting up his hands in a 'calm down' gesture.

"I never agreed with this plan to begin with! Granted, your intentions are admirable, but the execution is just downright bad. And with your condition, it'll be even harder to…"

"My 'condition' isn't that bad. I'll be fine, alright?"

Truth be told, Sly shared Bentley's concern about his condition, which in actuality was a bigger deal than Sly made it out to be. It had been four months since his final confrontation with Athena at the Wakanasato art gallery in Kyoto. While many of his injuries had healed since then, the bones in his arm had yet to be reset. A hard plaster cast covered his elbow down to his hand. The loss of mobility was a bit of a drag for him, but he compensated as best he could.

"I need to get over this by doing what I do best. C'mon, it'll make me feel better," he said in a teasing voice.

"Why not just go in through the front door?"

Sly tilted his head in thought, and finally decided he didn't really have a good answer.

"Okay so, do you think I can get in the same way as last time?"

Bentley scoffed over being ignored, something he really did not enjoy, and replied to his partner's question.

"Probably. That window you used is still unlocked. You can use that to get in just like your last failed job,"

"Man, this curator guy just doesn't care. It's like he's begging me to ransack this place," Sly chuckled under his breath.

"But you won't, right?" Bentley prodded. He knew the thought had crossed Sly's mind more than once, and it was getting increasingly hard to help him fight the temptation.

"Nothing is etched in stone, my reptilian compadre,"

The technically minded turtle growled low and angrily at his friend's comment. Sly huffed softly in response.

"Why so freakin' serious, man? Cut loose a little and make it easier for everyone else,"

"You made a promise, if I recall," Bentley stated flatly.

"You don't need to remind me. That part of my life is behind me now. I don't need it anymore. I mean, I've got a lot of other good things going on right now," Sly said calmly. Bentley didn't sense any sarcasm in his statements, but he knew that as a Master Thief, Sly was a master deceiver, so he kept up his guard.

"We're holding you to that, okay?"

"Okay, Bentley. Just one more thing. What are the chances I'll run into one of the guards while I'm in there?"

"Well," Bentley pondered, "considering it's not too far removed from closing time, and most of the guards are still finishing their final rounds, I'd say pretty good,"

"Perfect. Let's get to work,"

Sly strode casually to the roof ledge and peered over the side. He expected to see the giant wind chime he used to reach the window, but there was nothing but air.

"Bentley, what's going on? That crazy art thing isn't here anymore. What are my options?"

"It's a traveling exhibit, Sly. It won't be in the same place all the time. And what about my suggestion to try the front door?" the viridian nerd responded.

"Come on, you know I'm not a front door kind of guy. Hang on a sec, I think I got it,"

He leaned gingerly over the edge, gripping it firmly on the corner. Once he was sure of his grip, he flipped over the ledge, letting his body hang down underneath it. From his position, he was able to spot the window. Unfortunately for him, the ledge in front of it was not large enough to land on with his feet. His only option at this point was to drop down to the window, and grip the ledge with his hand. Using his exceptionally honed reflexes, he judged the drop perfectly, and managed to grip the office window ledge tightly in his hand. So now he hung several feet below the roof, right by the curator's window. But there was one thought that made him freeze up so fast it almost made him lose his grip. With one hand gripping the ledge, and one hand heavily bandaged, he was unable to open the window.

"Now see what happens when you don't think ahead?" a scolding voice sounded in his head.

Sly thought briefly about supporting his body with his chin while opening the door, but common sense prevented him from implementing his idea. His eyes were suddenly bombarded by light as the office came alive. After a few seconds the window slid open, and a rather heavyset male weasel in a tan overcoat peered outside, jumping a little from the shock of seeing someone hanging on his window ledge.

"Sir, museum hours are over. You'll have to come back tomorrow," he said softly, in a voice not suited to his stature.

"Mr. Hakari, I don't have an appointment, but I have something important to discuss with you. Could you please let me in?" Sly asked with a uncomfortable grin.

The museum curator gripped the raccoon's non-fractured arm, and smoothly lifted him off the ledge and into the office. Once Sly was safely inside, he removed his coat, revealing his tasteful black suit and tie, attire expected of the head of a high profile art gallery. He returned to his desk and sat down in his expansive chair. Sly was invited to take the chair in front of the desk, which in its own right, wasn't that bad either.

"Now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" the large creature asked, retrieving a flask from a bottom drawer and filling two highball glasses on his desk with brown liquid.

"Well, it's a matter of one of your exhibits, Mr. Hakari," Sly responded, politely declining the curator's offer of one of the glasses. "I happen to be in possession of one of them, and I thought it would be best if it were returned to its proper place," he continued.

Sly reached into his pouch and produced a brilliant green gemstone. He laid it gently on the table and relaxed into his chair. The museum manager gazed in wonder, took a second to collect himself, and looked up at the raccoon across from him.

"Is that the Junoichi Emerald? We've been searching for that thing for, like, half a year. Why do you have it?"

Sly gulped subconsciously. If he said the wrong thing now, he could be in serious trouble.

"The police caught the person who stole it. She's in custody right now. They were able to get its location from her before they put her away, and left it to me to bring it back to you,"

"So you're a cop, then?"

Sly grimaced slightly, not knowing exactly why.

"Not really. I'm more of an…independent contractor. I was asked by someone pretty high up to bring this back to you. Everything's already been cleared with them. All that's left is to put it back on display where it belongs,"

"One other thing," the manager added. "Why exactly were you hanging from my window?"

Sly honestly responded with a half shrug and motioned to his broken arm.

"You probably noticed my broken arm. It happened on a job a while ago, and I was just doing a few rehabilitation exercises to help me get back in the swing of things. There wasn't any bad intent in my actions, I assure you,"

Mr, Hakari coughed through his interlocked fingers while his elbows rested on his desk. He didn't know what to make of this man in front of his desk, but he truly didn't seem like his intention was to cause harm. If nothing else, the weasel was an excellent judge of character.

"Alright, I'll buy it. You seem like a good guy, and I suppose I owe you thanks for returning our emerald, but you are still in my museum past normal operating hours. I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave,"

"Of course, I don't want to cause any trouble," Sly nodded, getting out of his seat. "Do you think you can get the door for me? I can't get back out the way I came,"

"I'll have security show you out. Nonviolently, of course. Thank you again, Mr…?" he said, realizing he never found out his guest's name.

"It's Cooper,"

"Is that so?" he asked incredulously. "You aren't by chance related to that famous raccoon thief, are you?"

"Uh…no. That's…just a coincidence," he answered, almost stumbling over his own words.

Sly left the museum completely unscathed as he had planned. The guards that led him out were very courteous to the raccoon's surprise, most of them happy to have the emerald back under their care. A brisk walk through the early breezy night brought him back to the gang's treasured van. As he opened the door and climbed back in, Sly let out a breath of relief.

"That…actually turned out a little better than I planned it," he sighed cheerfully.

"That was a pretty awesome thing you did there, Sly. We're proud of ya," the driver said, glancing to his right. "We know how hard it was for you to do that,"

"Ah, don't sweat it. You guys deserve it. We've run as a crew for so long, I think it'll be nice to just, you know, hang out. As just…friends," Sly patted Murray's shoulder with his left hand.

"Well I'm all for that," Bentley stated enthusiastically. "This is going to be great; waking up every day, and not having to worry about what kind of loot we'll be stealing, what kind of escape plan we need to use, what kind of people are out to kill us. It'll be nice and relaxing,"

"This was just the first step, guys. Sending that emerald back was the start of a whole new life for us," Sly responded, leaning back into his chair almost on cue to Bentley saying the word 'relaxing.'

"How did you get Athena to give you that jewel?" Murray asked.

Sly blinked slowly at the mention of his sister's name. It still weighed on him pretty heavily when he thought about how he left her in the care of the police. But he knew in the end that it was for the best. Athena was getting the help she needed, and everyone involved in that grueling battle was getting some hard-earned rest.

Carmelita Fox. Another person he hadn't thought of in a while, though it pained him to admit. She was pretty banged up as well after that fight. The bullet hole on her shoulder, the knife wound on her other shoulder, the bruises on her jaw line brought on from Athena's vicious kicks. Aside from all of that, it was hard to ignore the psychological trauma. Two of her law enforcement colleagues had been killed. Although it turned out one of them had worked as a spy under Athena herself, he knew there was still a minor connection between them from the short time they spent on that case.

It suddenly dawned on Sly that he should pay both of them a visit very soon. Athena wasn't going anywhere, so seeing her wouldn't be a problem at all. But Carmelita was a different story; she always was. He hadn't heard from her since leaving Athena with her in Japan, and he could only assume she was tending her wounds just like he was. Quickly he recalled that Carmelita had invited him to call her if he ever wanted to drop by. He would just have to take her up on that offer.

"Uh, hey Sly?" Murray nudged him gently. Sly opened his eyes slowly and turned to face the wheelman again. "Sorry man, it looked like you were spacing out there for a minute,"

"Huh?" Sly groaned quietly. "Oh right, the emerald," he laughed silently. "I just happened to catch her when she was really agreeable. Must have been a good day for a visit,"

"Or they had her hopped up on happy pills," Bentley grumbled.

"Why do you always do that? You've been a real freakin' downer today, you know that?" Sly turned in his seat to regard Bentley in the back of the van.

"I'm sorry, I just don't like her very much. Something about her never sat well with me, and now I think it is pretty obvious why,"

"I know, man," Sly flopped into his seat again. "But it's also obvious she's not totally to blame for that. Hopefully, she'll be able to get that whole mess out of her system soon. I mean, we are family after all,"

After a long drive out of the city, they arrived at their comfortable home in the deserted train yard. The overturned cars and scattered debris meant to ward off visitors only made the place feel more welcome to them. As Murray pulled the van up to their quiet and peaceful home, he wondered aloud to the rest of the gang.

"How do you guys think she's doing right now?"


	3. I Am Jack's Professional Curiosity

Chapter 2: I Am Jack's Professional Curiosity

The famous City of Lights was living up to its name as the sun dipped under the horizon. Before darkness could completely claim the city, the streetlamps sprung to life, filling the roads with gleaming light. Buildings all over began to shine as well, some with simple candles in the windows, some with strings of lights hung around the rooftops. But while Paris revitalized itself at the end of another long day, there was a solitary building on the northern edge of the city that refused to take part in the dance of light. The nature of the building itself may have played a hand in its lack of light. After all, the most dangerous, vicious and psychotic criminals and mental patients in the world were housed inside. High fences with wires surrounded the facility, accentuated in some areas by small transformer boxes designed to electrify them. Giant steel doors graced the front wall with an intimidating rectangular pattern of rivets on its face. Windows were almost nonexistent, flat and long gaps in the walls, not tall enough to even fit an arm through. The single road leading to the shelter was flanked on both sides by short trees, a desperate attempt by the landscapers to breathe life into the dreary ward.

The motionless atmosphere was broken that night by the stylish green car which pulled into the asylum's parking lot. The security staff nodded to each other, immediately recognizing the vehicle by its required admittance pass hanging from its mirror. Following regulations, two of the guards left their posts and approached the car, each one taking a place on either side of the driver's door. The sleek vehicle powered down, and the door opened slowly, making sure not to hit the guards who were now standing by. The car's owner emerged, nodding to his escort, and began trudging toward the edifice. The flowing white coat that draped his shoulders contrasted drastically against the darkness in the parking lot. The guards followed closely at his side, glancing around for anything out of the ordinary. His voice drew their attention for a moment. It was soft and calm, something you didn't normally hear at a psycho ward.

"I appreciate your escort, gentlemen. But I really don't think it's necessary. I mean, it's only a short walk to the door," he spoke lightly.

One of them turned to face him, nearly entranced by his glowing green eyes and his handsome cat-like features. They didn't seem to coincide with his various certifying badges and the briefcase in his hand. Silently, he thought to himself how a person like that got into the field of medicine. But quickly realizing it was none of his business, he responded.

"Sorry, doctor. But it is part of our job. We know you share a certain degree of trust with your patients, but we're paid to make sure this place and the employees stay safe. It's unfortunate, but we can't afford to take risks,"

The doctor blinked quickly and smiled politely.

"Okay, I guess I can understand that. We all have jobs to do," he said, finally arriving at the door. "Do you know if my colleague arrived yet?"

"Yeah, he's inside. Got here pretty early, if I remember. Said he had an observation to do,"

The medical expert nodded with a grin, not surprised by his associate's unfathomable work ethic.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Have a good night," he bowed slightly to the guards and proceeded into the main lobby.

He strode swiftly past the front desk, flashing his trademark grin to the secretaries seated there. Reveling in their expected reactions, dreamy sighs and sparkling eyes, he continued his walk to the observation area. He loved having that effect on women. He wouldn't really classify himself as vain, but he certainly was proud of his good looks. People told him constantly that had he not gotten into medicine, he could have been a successful model. His response was always the same: he would never waver on his true passion, and he never once regretted becoming a doctor. He enjoyed the daily opportunities to help people, and he was glad to know he could look good while doing it.

The hallways he took to the observational room were kept extremely clean and polished, the floors and walls almost reflective. He shifted his sight from side to side, noting the heavily padded doors. He knew it was all for safety reasons, like the guards had said, but it all seemed a little extreme to him. While it was true that some of the people he had treated in this place were criminals, personal experience showed him they weren't the hardened scum of society that everyone made them out to be. In fact, some of them were really nice guys, people with good homes and families, who truly felt remorse for their actions. He was happy to be there for those people, the ones who had people turning their backs to them left and right. It made him feel like part of a bigger solution. Upon arriving to the top of the hospital, he opened the door to the observation hall and went inside.

He shook his head with a small smirk as he saw another doctor seated at a large table, his fixed gaze on an expansive window. The frizzy mess of hair on his head gave him a false appearance of height, and perhaps age, now that the young doctor thought of it. He didn't really know that much about his older staff mate, only that he had a ridiculously thick Spanish accent, could be very acrimonious, and had a habit of becoming too absorbed in his work. The table he sat at was scattered with notepads, file folders and surveillance equipment, which buzzed with activity around the quiet, unmoving tiger. Finally, the younger physician passed through the doorway, stepped into the light, and reached a hand up to brush his thick brown hair away from his lightly spotted face.

"Another long night for you, eh Tivo? Keep this up and we'll have to keep you here, too," he said in a joking tone.

The doctor flinched a bit at the statement, lifted his head slightly and responded without taking his gaze away from the window.

"Once again, my name is Dr. Montevo Spice, and I prefer to be addressed as such. I would not expect such a thing to be a problem for you, McSpeedy," he sighed in meager disappointment.

His colleague's eyes widened in surprise at this comment.

"Excuse me? Did you just call me 'Miss Piggy?'" he chuckled under his breath.

"No, I did not. I call you by your true name: Dr. Thomas McSpeedy," he answered with a matter-of-fact inflection.

"Right, sorry. It's just…your accent," he laughed as he walked over to the small coffee maker they kept in the office. "I swear, it's so thick it almost sounds like you're faking it,"

The golden-skinned tiger snorted in frustration, stood from his seat and adjusted the collar of his bright white coat. Slowly he turned to face his junior partner with a small sneer on his face.

"This is the way I was raised to speak, and it is the way I will continue to speak. If you persist with such ridiculous banter, I will have to create some vacancies among your teeth by way of my fist,"

"No need to get hostile, Dr. Spice," McSpeedy laughed after he set down his drink. "I was just messing with you. And for the record, I prefer to go by 'Tom.' Think we can reach an understanding?"

"I'll have to think about that. I like to maintain a certain degree of professionalism, and I expect the same of those around me. But for you, _mi amigo_, I think I can make an exception," he smiled slightly.

Tom nodded in appreciation and walked over to the observation window to see the patient himself.

"Is this the same one you've been watching all day?" he asked as he stood in place beside the table.

"She's such a fascinating subject. A case like hers doesn't normally fall into my lap like this," Dr. Spice replied, pouring himself a drink from the coffee machine.

The young jaguar peered through the glass to get a closer look at the woman sitting below them. She laid peacefully on a large padded mattress in the middle of the room, not seeming to be affected by the chains attached to her wrists and bolted to the floor. A small bathroom with a tall glazed booth sat in the corner of the area. Small holes dotted the walls and there were small puddles of water gathering in the corners. The doctor snatched up the folder closest to him on the table. He learned from its contents that this particular subject was a serious danger who needed to be kept under constant surveillance, and a steady supply of water was necessary for her safety. He didn't really understand it. Looking down at her calm, beautiful face and slim, attractive figure, he couldn't fathom how she could be a danger to anyone.

"Athena Cooper, eh?" he read from the file in his hand.

"She was brought here a few months ago," Montevo explained from behind him. "Due to the complex nature of her case, I was given special clearance to observe her as much as I could. So far there haven't been any problems, but I'm still waiting for something to happen,"

Dr. McSpeedy regarded his senior with a mischievous grin.

"She's cute," he smirked widely. "I can definitely see the attraction,"

The older tiger returned to his seat and closed his eyes, as if to avert his desire to smack the arrogance off his coworkers face.

"I assure you that the attraction is solely based in professional curiosity. As I said before, this case is extremely interesting from a psychological standpoint. My aides and I often debate the theory of a predetermined personality which is passed on a genetic level from one's parents. But this one, the idea that one of her parents actually lives in her head…it's just too intriguing not to pursue,"

The younger feline physician blinked in surprise after his medical mentor's exposition.

"So she hears voices in her head? That seems like a pretty common problem around here, and not just with the patients. Are the chains really necessary for this?" he asked, bringing his concern with the facility's extreme measures to light.

"It goes far beyond just hearing voices, Tom. Read into this one a little more, and you'll see that this 'voice' actually controls her from time to time. I don't know if I believe that or not, but given the nature of the voice itself, we can't take any chances. Hence, the chains are indeed required," he replied, typing a long string of data into the computer on his table.

"Is that right? The file here says she's part of the Cooper line. I wouldn't expect her to need psychiatric help if she's hearing their voices,"

"No, this is not true," the senior doctor stated flatly. "A simple DNA test shows that she is of no relation to the Cooper bloodline. In fact, the sample we've procured from her does not match any lineage in our system,"

"What? How can that be? Our database traces family lines back over three hundred years. Who could possibly live that…" he stopped his question midway and gaped in shock. "You don't think…"

"And now you see the reason for my interest, _sí_?"

"You're referring to your work for your previous employers, right?"

Dr. Montevo Spice sighed heavily at the mention of his last job. He didn't like to drudge up the memories, but they were an important part of his career, and they had major tie-ins to his current case.

"_Es verdad_. A sad part of my past, to be sure. But you already know this story, yes?"

"Not really. I haven't been on your staff as long as everyone else, so I don't know that much about you,"

"Then I will tell you. If you're going to work with me, then you should know everything that I know. It wasn't too long ago that I was a staff doctor for a manufacturing plant owned by Master Arpeggio,"

His young associate widened his eyes at his last words.

"Now that name I _do_ know. He was a master inventor and technical advisor for the Klaww Gang," he rubbed his head as he recalled this old knowledge.

"But this was not known to us at the time. He kept us all in the dark about a lot of things. I had noble ideals, my friend. Advancing the boundaries of medicine. It was through my research that Arpeggio came to know about _nanjari masala_, the Indian Spice plant. He was interested in its ability to increase the strength of those who ingested it, clearly ignoring the blind rage it seemed to cause,"

"Of course he ran experiments to determine the extent of its power, but the whole process was suddenly called off when the plant was closed down and we were all let go," he said with a small sniff as he recalled his termination. "We realized too late that contrary to its name, this plant was never meant to be used as an actual spice. If the entire plant is ground and ingested in mass quantities, it can cause the eater to go into a intense fit of rage. A large enough dose can even be toxic. It was later we learned that he was hatching a plan to control the world by reviving the great beast, Clockwerk. He used the spice plant and _my research_ to accomplish this. I've still not completely recovered from that,"

"One thing I don't get," Dr. McSpeedy pondered as he took another drink from his cup. "If you knew how dangerous the plant was, why didn't you halt your research and avoid the plant altogether?"

"Did you forget my ambitions so quickly, McSpeedy? I wanted to use this plant for _good_. I still research it today, you should know. I've discovered that an extract from the plant's stamen can be employed as a mild steroid, useful in respiratory disorders. Who knows, maybe I could have created a cure for the common cold,"

"Didn't they already do that?"

"Yes, but I could've done it first," the older tiger glanced to his side. "At any rate, I've taken to studying this woman because I believe there is something I can do to help her with this affliction,"

"Well, thanks for the backstory, I guess. But what can you do to help her? Is this even your field?" his partner asked.

"Psychology is merely the application of common sense to solve complex problems. Anyone with a good head on his shoulders can do it. But what I plan to do is different. I want to find out exactly how much of her personality is truly her own, and how much stems from Clockwerk's control. And I believe that my research with the spice plant can do this," Dr. Montevo Spice explained, staring intently into Athena's room, watching her stir silently in her sleep.

"Alright, Tivo," Tom said over his partner's shoulder. "But if you ask me, this whole thing is starting to creep into the realm of…well, creepiness,"

"Then, Miss Piggy, I dare say it's a good thing that I did not ask,"

The two doctors glared roughly at each other, until both of them burst out in laughter. Even though their different personalities were often at odds, the young jaguar was glad his associate and friend was starting to be more comfortable around him. Tom took a quick look through the window again, and tapped Montevo's shoulder lightly.

"Look, she's starting to talk in her sleep again. Turn those mics up, we've gotta get this,"


	4. I Am Jack's Latent Desire

Chapter 3: I Am Jack's Latent Desire

The room that night was deathly silent. The usual clamor of the night life of Paris was miles away, and no light or noise could reach her. There was only the cool air blowing in through the tiny windows, the almost demonic hum of the dim hospital lights, and the occasional drip of the water pipes snaking through the walls, emptying out into the room itself. Despite the apparent stillness of her surroundings, she struggled quietly against an internal cacophony. With her arms and legs bound on her mattress, she focused hard in her mind to steel herself against the voice that continued to torment her.

The images he displayed to her in flashes both confused and angered her. She saw a giant steel tower in a volcanic inferno, a steel gray control room teeming with computers and monitors, and she saw a long row of tinted glass tubes in a lab. She coughed loudly, almost choking on her last breath, when she saw the last image. She couldn't, nearly refused to believe it, but the final frame of his show was her. She was encased in the final tube at the end of the row, and she was surrounded by his mechanical lab technicians. They were shaking each other's hands and laughing over their "success." She knew without even being conscious of that moment, they were talking about her.

_And that is the whole story, Athena. That is how you came to be my vessel, and my daughter, _the great robotic avian calmly stated from within her psyche.

"You created me in your laboratory? Like some kind of lifeless machine? Are you trying to say I'm not even real?" she whispered out loud, still in her sleep.

_It is not so complicated as that, my child, _he responded. Clockwerk was toying with her, she could just feel it. He couldn't speak this nicely to anyone if his immortal life depended on it. _And I know what you are thinking. I may have kept myself alive on hate, but I am not incapable of compassion…towards the right people, of course._

"Doesn't that list of people include only yourself?"

_It most certainly does. But I have become a part of you, so that list now includes you. Back to your questions now. You definitely exist, Athena. You were born of woman, just as any other person. Your mother was a real person as well. I brought her into my lab to take part in Project: Revival, as I did with several other women._

"I saw the flashback, Clockwerk. You found women who looked similar to the Cooper family, and you kidnapped them and forced them to…

"_You catch on quick. I made them conceive for me. The resulting offspring would resemble the fruits of that putrid clan, and would be born with my desire to crush them. I claimed them all as my own. But there was only one who survived the implantation of the artificial intelligence program._

Athena's eyes fluttered quickly in her sleep, an outward sign of her inward battle with her fiendish possessor.

"I still don't acknowledge any of this, Clockwerk. Even _you_ wouldn't resort to a plan _this _farfetched,"

_You poor, misguided child. I have been with you throughout your entire life. I am part of you. Now, why would you want to lie to yourself?_

"You don't exist anymore, and you aren't part of me. I can get rid of you any time I please, just like he did," she growled, parting her lips slightly in a grinding sneer.

_Hold on to that delusion, Athena. What reason did you ever have to believe you belonged in his company?_

"The police had a report on my theft of that emerald. It…said I had Cooper DNA,"

_Too easy. Answer me this, Athena: you have no memory of committing that crime, yes? You were so surprised when that emerald suddenly appeared in your bedroom, I saw it, _he wheezed in delight at his current train of thought, making her squirm uncomfortably.

_But it was not enough that you become a thief. I wanted you to become a Cooper. Or rather, I wanted you to think you were a Cooper. The best solution: planting Cooper DNA at the crime scene. Do you know how long I have been chasing the Coopers, Athena? How long I have been disposing them? What do you think I did with the bodies?_

"You twisted bastard! This whole sick plan of yours, all those lives you ruined. What was it all for?"

_It was for you. That sick plan is the whole reason that you live. And you lived because you accepted your role in that plan. On your basest levels, you were the closest match to me above all the other subjects. And because of that, you lived._

"You didn't…you're a monster,"

_They were of no use to me. I had no reason to keep them. Is it so wrong to throw away a tool that serves no purpose? But you are different, Athena. You could have resisted, and you could have died, just like the others. But you were stronger. Your emotions, your hate, your lust for power even at such a young age…you were perfect. And part of you wanted to this, you cannot deny. I created you as you created yourself. You are the extension of myself beyond death. I live through you. Athena, __**I am your father**__._

"NO!" she screamed as loud as she was able, finally coming out of her slumber. "NO! IT'S NOT TRUE!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!" She began to thrash wildly in her restraints, tearing and clawing at the mattress beneath her. The hospital walls around her began to spin, collapse, flash different colors, and remain perfectly still, all at the same time. Her eyes darted around fearfully, as if waiting for something to jump out of the darkness and tear her apart. Finally, her breathing became erratic and stilted, and her body vibrated with such intensity that she started to float off her beddings.

At that moment, a giant red light flashed on above her, and a piercing buzz filled the room. Even in her hysteric state, she recalled from her four months of custody that this was the signal to hold her breath. Drawing as much air into her lungs as she could, she shut her eyes tightly and resigned herself to becoming totally drenched. The perforated steel walls that enveloped her blasted a massive quantity of water directly toward her bed. In an instant, it was over. The moisture hung in the air long after the water had finished flooding in, finding homes in puddles saturated in the corners of the chamber. She exhaled with a quiet tremble, partly from the fear that Clockwerk still imbued in her, the relief she felt that his presence was gone, and the sudden cold brought by the wetness of her environment. The simple black sleepwear she'd been given was now soaked straight through, clinging to her fur almost like a layer of thick, black paint. The gamut of emotion she had been subjected to finally overcame her, and she lost herself to darkness once again.

The physicians in charge of the ailing raccoon's care continued to observe from their own room above, gazing intently through the glass pane before them. The older of them laid his pen down after taking his own personal notes, and breathed a delighted sigh.

"Such a fascinating subject," he whispered under his breath.

The junior jaguar doctor, enthralled by the events he had witnessed, turned away for second, trying to wrap his head around what he saw.

"Well, at least with this we can be sure that a fragment of Clockwerk does exist in her mind. But what's with all this water, Tivo?"

Groaning heavily at the use of his hated nickname, Dr. Montevo Spice retrieved a note from one of the file folders on the table.

"I don't really know how to explain it either, McSpeedy," he began. "When she was first brought here, Mr. Cooper related to us the story of his confrontation with her. Apparently, when Clockwerk took over her mind and began his violent rampage, he was finally defeated when Cooper doused him with a heavy dose of rainwater. For some reason, water generates a negative response in the subject when the beast is in control of her mind. That is why the water is so important: it is to keep her under control,"

"This is all…very unusual, man," he said, finding the right words to match his confusion. "Just…something about all this doesn't seem right,"

"You're still on about what you consider "extreme conditions" in this hospital? Need I remind you the people we treat here are criminals? We can't afford to be soft on them,"

"Still, this place isn't a prison. These people are here because they have serious mental illnesses, and treating them like prisoners doesn't do them any good. We're supposed to be helping them, and right now, I'm going to go help her," Tom proudly stated, turning toward a small auxiliary stairway that led down to the patient's room.

"I cannot condone this, McSpeedy," Montevo responded with a shake of his head. "Our task here is observation. We have to remain objective, and that means avoiding emotional contact with the subject,"

"'Emotional contact?'" he repeated his colleague's words in disbelief. "The only contact she has right now is that monster in her head. That sounds bad no matter which way you slice it. She needs someone she can talk to, and I'm going to do this,"

"I don't want you getting too close to her," the aged tiger warned, standing from his table and walking to a storage closet in a corner of the room. "Our results would become skewed otherwise,"

"I can't believe this. This isn't one of your experiments, Dr. Spice. That is a real person down there, someone who is scared and alone, and she's getting more so each day. Just leaving her be like this'll destroy her in the end. You see that, don't you?"

Without turning back to look at his younger staff mate, he pulled a large white towel from the closet and tossed it back to him.

"Just don't get carried away, Thomas. If you get too attached to this patient, you'll be much more affected if something were to happen,"

Dr. McSpeedy was about to continue the argument, but thought better of pressing the issue of personal attachment. He knew that his colleague preferred to engross himself in work, while remaining removed from most social situations, but it was difficult to say if he had always been that way. He thought perhaps that his superior was speaking from experience.

"Thank you, Montevo. I'll be careful," he said sincerely, then departed through the door to Athena's room.

He shouldered the white towel and descended the stairs leading to the area holding the subject of their observation. Sliding his special issue security card through the lock on the door, he entered casually observing, as the atmosphere seemed to become significantly colder. There was a subtle mist in the air, caused by the cold air that was already evaporating the fresh water on the ground. He shook his head quickly as vapor began to collect on his whiskers, twirled a finger through the air and watched the water vapor circle around it, and finally approached the unconscious woman restrained on the mattress. He didn't really know what to expect as he slowly drew closer to her, but he held on to his previous notion that she couldn't possibly be as dangerous as her profile had suggested. He looked down at the pegs on the floor that held her chains in place.

"Tivo, could you take these chains off for a little bit? I want her to know she can trust me," he asked through a nearby mic.

"You know my opinion about this, and you read her psychological profile as I did. If you truly want to take that risk, then I will have you assume responsibility," the answer came with a warning tone.

McSpeedy placed the towel on the bed right next to Athena, and nodded up through the window to his mentor. Several electronic tones sounded throughout the room, culminating with the pneumatic release of the steel cuffs around Athena's wrists and ankles. He cautiously looked over the bed one more time, just in case she happened to lose it again. After convincing himself that it was safe, he shifted the chains off the mattress. The loud clank of the heavy bindings landing on the floor caused the woman on the bed to stir. Slowly she opened her sparkling emerald orbs and shifted her sight slightly to the right. The eyes that were looking back at her were a brighter green than her own, and they belonged to an extremely striking young jungle cat (possibly a leopard, she couldn't tell at first glance) wearing a long, gleaming white coat. He wasn't particularly tall, but he had a nice build to him, and his hair had a pleasing shine under the dim light of the room. He greeted her with a warm, friendly smile and an even friendlier voice.

"Good morning, miss. I'm Dr. Tom McSpeedy. It's very nice to meet you," he said, leaning in for a polite handshake, which she quickly accepted. Leaning up into a sitting position, she brushed some wet hair from her eyes and made her best attempt to smile back.

"Athena," she said briefly, not trusting her voice yet. After all, Clockwerk had just relinquished control of her mind, and this man before her was, in essence, a stranger. After swallowing a small lump that formed in her throat, she continued. "It's nice to meet you, too…Dr. McSpeedy,"

He laughed a bit before sighing brightly, "I would prefer if you call me 'Tom'. It's much easier to remember, and I like to connect to my patients on a personal level. In fact, I'd like to think we could soon be friends,"

"I don't think I've met a doctor as…well, friendly as you are," she mused. "I think it'll be a nice change of pace,"

"You mean Tivo? Don't worry about him," he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. "He just likes to avoid personal attachments. He's a real professional, lemme tell ya. Though admittedly, his bedside manner could use a little work," he snickered quietly, knowing that Dr. Spice could clearly hear him through the audio link.

"I see. And…what about yours?" she asked hesitantly, reaching for the towel on the side of the bed.

She began by running the soft, white terrycloth through her hair. She closed her eyes and brought the towel over her face, pulling it down slowly to flash her jade eyes to him, sparkling from the recent burst of water that had assailed it. Tom couldn't help but notice how the water affected the rest of her body, as well. The clothes she wore were sopping wet, and clung to her figure…rather appetizingly.

_Whoa. Hello, left field, _he thought to himself in embarrassment. He turned away from her to hide the minor blush that formed on his face.

"Tom," she said in a hushed tone. "You can relax. You're a doctor, and you're a man. I'm sure I don't have anything you haven't seen before,"

The jaguar jumped at Athena's latest curveball comment, and coughed lightly after gasping a little too hard.

"No, no. I'm not that kind of doctor…or that kind of man," he added lightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does that mean you're not…you know…" she nudged him curiously.

"Of course not! I'm totally straight, definitely. But I like to hang on to some kind of professional integrity. I'm not as bad as ol' Tivo, but I'm not a total flake, either,"

Athena folded her arms tightly and breathed in for accentuation. Letting out a short sigh, she turned her head away in feigned disappointment.

"I thought you wanted to be my friend. Are we moving backwards already?"

He scratched the back of his head a little, pondering her question. He wasn't used to being on the other end of idle flirting like this, and he was just a tad uncomfortable at it. Subconsciously, he knew it was a bad idea, fraternizing with a patient, especially one as dangerous as this…

"Well, for someone as pretty as you…I guess I can bend my rule just a little,"

As soon as he finished that sentence, a blaring red light flooded the room, and an earsplitting buzz accompanied it. This carried on for about ten more seconds, before Tom finally held up a hand to stop his colleague from raising that alarm. The sound cut off and he stood up from the bed.

"I guess that's my cue to exit. Try to get some more rest, okay?" he said as he headed to the door.

"You're leaving me alone?" she asked with a hint of vulnerability.

Tom waved his hands about in a way that said 'of course not.'

"Tivo and I will be right up there, keeping an eye on you. And if you ever want to talk to me, and I mean about anything, you can just call for me, and I'll come right down,"

She smiled lightly and laid back down, proceeding to dry off the rest of her body. She watched him leave from the corner of her eye, and happily sighed to herself.

_He's seems really nice. And he's on my side. I can use someone like that._

_**Indeed, I can.**_


	5. I Am Jack's Playful Adaptation

Chapter 4: I Am Jack's Playful Adaptation

The sun had been making its countenance upon the station for hours when he finally awoke from a peaceful slumber. The train yard had been out of use for over 50 years, so it was a perfect place to relax after a big job. There was no reason for the local gentry to come to what was perceived as a haunt for French soldier specters, which made it easy for his gang to come and go as they pleased. They had several bases scattered throughout the station, all with varying degrees of renovation. He had insisted they rotate the bases they used in order to "keep things interesting". The one he had chosen this month was the largest of them, a two-story barracks towards the back of the yard. His place of rest was a modestly sized corner room on the top floor. For some reason he couldn't explain, he always slept better the farther from the ground he was.

It had been years since he'd slept that well. He felt like after returning the stolen emerald to the gallery in Japan, his conscience was finally clear. Truthfully, he never once felt bad about living the life he had inherited, but maybe living a life without breaking the law would be nice, too. These are the things he thought as he slid out of his bed that morning. He exited his bedroom on the second floor, not bothering with the room's maintenance for now, and heard the sounds of life coming from downstairs. Normally, he and his friends were on different internal schedules. While he was awake most often at night, he didn't see much of his day-dwelling roomies. That was going to change today, he decided.

The blue carpeted staircase crumpled silently under his footfalls as he descended. At the base of the stairs, he glanced off to his right and spotted Murray, comfortably positioned in front of his giant TV as he usually was. He thought briefly about joining his larger friend on the couch and relaxing the day away, but he wanted to have some fun with his other comrade first. He proceeded to another room on the first floor, where the sound from Murray's television set was drowned out by the beeps and whirs of a massive amount of technological wonders. At the center of it all, a tiny green reptile was reading through a monitor riddled with text and tables. The leader of the pack stood silently in the archway, watching as his intelligent pal continued to work. At first he wanted to see how long he could stand there before the turtle would acknowledge his presence, but deciding that he didn't have all day to stand in a doorway, he initiated the conversation.

"Morning, Bentley," he said with a wide smile. "What are you working on today?"

Not even bothering to look up from his computer screen, he responded.

"Sly, do you realize you ask that question every time you see me at this computer?"

"Do _you _realize you answer all my questions with another question?" Sly asked in response.

"Excuse me for being Socratic, but all of your questions are just so…"

Bentley halted his statement as he lifted his face to make eye contact with his grey-furred friend. When he did, he noticed that Sly looked every bit like he had just gotten out of bed. His hair was a complete mess, his fur was sticking out in all possible directions, and he was completely unclothed, save for a pair of loose-fitting black boxer shorts. Bentley released a revolted sigh and continued.

"…obvious. Ew," he said flatly. "Do you wanna put that away, Lady Marmalade?"

"What?" Sly said casually. "We're all guys here, Bents,"

"True, but there's such a thing as decency? Respect? PANTS?!! If you want to know more about these things, I have some literature you might find illuminating,"

Sly puffed out his chest in retaliation, trying to highlight the lines of his muscles.

"Please. You just wish you looked like this," he chuckled heartily, knowing how uncomfortable Bentley must have been at that moment.

"Ignoring that. So what are you doing up so early? You're usually so…I don't know, nocturnal," Bentley asked.

"Naturally, I am," Sly replied. "But I'm trying to adapt myself to daytime activity. Now that I'm a normal, law-abiding citizen, I can move about in the light without having to worry about being seen. And I gotta say, it's a good feeling,"

"You're coming around quite nicely, I have to say. I was worried at first when you told us you were giving up the family business. But you've certainly adapted well to civilian life. Murray and I are proud of you," Bentley smiled brightly. "Come over here and take a look. This is what I've been working on this morning,"

Sly carefully edged his way through Bentley's maze of hard drives and paper stacks, and peered over the turtle's shoulder at the bright glowing monitor.

"Alternative energy sources, eh? That's pretty noble, man," he said after scanning the screen for a few seconds.

"It doesn't make sense to wait until the planet's reserves are depleted before we look elsewhere for fuel sources. If I can create a perpetual propulsion system, I'd be a hero, and I'd have access to the riches that that title brings,"

"I withdraw my previous statement, though I can still respect that you're doing this for riches. It's not like we need it, though," Sly said, spying a small notepad to the right of Bentley's mouse pad.

"Well, no offense, but I'd like to be rich and famous in my own right, and I'd like to do it legitimately,"

"None taken. I always knew that brain of yours would lead you to greatness," Sly laughed, rubbing Bentley's scalp roughly as he flipped open the notebook in his other hand. Quietly, he read through the notes on the first page. One particular bulleted list caught his eye, one that contained a list of possible sources of alternate energy.

"Spice?!" Sly shouted suddenly after spotting it on the list. "Are you crazy? That stuff is dangerous,"

"So is gasoline, but we still use it as fuel," Bentley stated simply. "As a scientist, I can't deny its potential just because of our experience with it. Don't you remember how much stronger it made Murray?"

"I remember how crazy it made him," Sly remarked.

"That was a result of the Contessa's hypnosis. The Spice was just a catalyst. If I can harness that energy, the world would have a cheap, renewable source of energy that literally grows on trees,"

"If you can do it, that would be great. But you'd also have to get around the fact that the plant is illegal,"

"Laws can be changed when necessity presents itself. When people see how much good Spice can do, that law will be repealed, and then I can shop it around to various companies, trying to get the best price…"

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down, buddy," Sly offered with a grin. "You've really gotta take it easy with that. I made all that money so we wouldn't have to work like this. Why don't you try having a little fun? Like…"

As Sly spoke, a loud distorted noise sprung from the room across the hall, causing him to stop and turn his head sharply. He and Bentley slid out of the computer room to see what the commotion was about. A wide smile graced Sly's face upon seeing the large pink hippo standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were fixed on the TV as he clutched a small, plastic object in the shape of a guitar, with a long black cord leading back to the console. An unbelievably happy look was painted on his face as he pressed the switch on the face of his instrument. Two power notes later, he began to sing to the music pumping out of the stereo.

"_I…Am…Iron Man…Duh-nuh duh-nuh da-da-dun duh-nuh-duh,"_ he sang along with the notes on the screen. Out of his peripheral vision, he spotted his roommates, and shouted to them, "You guys gotta try this thing, man! It's AWESOME!!"

Barely controlling his laughter, Sly gave his buddy a thumbs up and shouted over the music, "Way to go, Murray!"

He looked down at Bentley, then circled behind him, kneeling down to match his height.

"See how much fun he's having, Bents? Doesn't that just make you smile a big'un?" he chided, shaking him by the shoulders.

The shortest man of the Cooper Gang shook loose from Sly's grasp and grumbled audibly.

"Get off of me! You've got no pants on, you freak,"

Bentley left Sly standing in the hallway and retreated to the safety of his fortress of technology. Sly shrugged off the industrious reptile's bad mood and entered the room where Murray continued to rock. The slim and trim raccoon flopped down on the couch behind him, almost losing himself in a crater made in the cushion by his heavier associate. Slowly, he closed his eyes, absorbing the music emanating from the game on the TV. He still wasn't quite used to being awake this early, but he enjoyed spending time with his friends like this, so he pushed himself to adjust his internal clock. As Murray's song winded down, the ground shook a little after he took a joyous leap of celebration.

"YEAH!!" Murray cheered. "That was awesome! Hey man, you wanna turn?" he turned back to face Sly, offering the controller.

"No thanks, Murray. You go on, alright?" Sly politely declined. Murray shrugged casually, adjusted the strap on his shoulder and turned back to face the screen.

The reclining raccoon shifted his body sideways, putting his feet up on the couch, and looked around the room. Murray seemed to care even less about keeping a room tidy than he did. Soda cans and pizza boxes were strewn about, there were socks hanging off of lampshades, and a pile of dust was gathering in the back corner that Sly was convinced was breathing.

"Yikes, this place could really use a woman's touch," he sighed off-handedly, craning his neck back to face Murray.

"I don't know why you're looking at me when you say that," the hippo responded while continuing his game. "My van's the only girl I need,"

Sly sat up from his reclined position and gazed disapprovingly at Murray. After an awkward pause, the heavyset driver sighed lightly.

"And I just realized how pathetic that sounded once I said it out loud,"

"Yeah, man. We've really gotta work on that,"

"I know, man. I know," Murray waved it off. "But I'm not the kind of guy who can just go out and 'get' chicks whenever he feels like it. That's more your thing. You've had Carmelita in your back pocket for years now. Why don't you just make it official?"

"Nah, I already tried that…and failed miserably," he shook his head with a small smile. "No, Murray. Unfortunately, that ship has sailed,"

"I don't know, Sly. There's gotta be less tension between you two now that we're not thieves anymore. Who knows, she might give you a second chance,"

"That's a nice thought, Murray," Sly replied. "But I'm comfortable straddling the line between close friends and mortal enemies. A love-hate relationship is the next best thing,"

"Isn't it the exact same thing?" Murray asked curiously.

"It depends on who you ask. But that aside, I think it's time we both put ourselves out there. We're going out tonight, pal. You with me?"

"Sounds good, man," Murray nodded as he finished another song. "You sure you don't want to try it out? It's really fun,"

"Maybe later. I'm gonna go see what Bentley's up to," Sly answered, getting up from the couch. "Take it easy, Murray,"

"Always, Sly. Always," Murray said, turning the machine off and flopping on the couch, retrieving the remote from between the cushions.

Sly wandered back out into the hallway, intent on going back to his room to get dressed and clean up a little bit. Before he made it to the stairway, Bentley uncharacteristically emerged from his study and called out to him.

"Sly, get in here. You'll want to see this,"

"Is it important, Bentley? I wanted to go put on some clothes real quick," Sly paused in place, turning back to regard the turtle.

"Well, it isn't that big a deal. It's just that Chief Fox sent you a message, but it can wait until you get your pants on,"

"Keep dreaming, Bents. I gotta see this right now," he said excitedly. He edged past Bentley, making his way into the room. The small green lizard nearly threw himself into the wall to avoid being brushed against by Sly's unkempt torso, sighing as the raccoon vanished into his computer area.

"That's just fantastic. You better not sit in my chair!"


	6. I Am Jack's Salvaged Identity

Chapter 5: I Am Jack's Salvaged Identity

The offices of the Paris City Police were bustling with activity that afternoon. With the city being a prime tourist attraction for travelers from around the world, a strong police presence was necessary to keep things under control. The criminal element of Paris normally shied away from coming out during the day, but the overweight, star-struck sightseers made for such easy targets. It was difficult to resist the urge to attempt some daring act of pick pocketing or straight-up mugging, even knowing that the possibility of being seen by some officer of the law constantly loomed over their heads like so much Sword of Damocles. And those very officers relished in the opportunity to capture such bold and brash delinquents, knowing that the thanks of a global community would be theirs.

The sun was bright today, but it was a dry, pleasant heat. Beautiful weather for a day on the town. And there was one person who wanted to be out there more than anyone in that office. But due to extenuating circumstances, she was stuck behind her desk yet again, aimlessly clicking through the personnel files on her computer. The office chair squeaked relentlessly underneath her, and the hum of the ceiling fan beat an incessant tune in her ears. Tiredly she gazed down to her left arm, helplessly confined to a sling, as it had been the last few months. It was four by her estimation, maybe a few weeks more. The knife wounds had been properly sutured, but the nerve damage in her arm was extensive. The doctors advised her from strenuous activity until the limb was fully healed. And thus, her greatest nightmare had been realized. She was stuck behind a desk, reading a bunch of paperwork. She had become a desk cop. It was excruciating. She sighed to herself, and picked up the nameplate at the front of the desk. Turning it over in her functional hand, she read the engraving on her gold plate.

_Carmelita Montoya Fox, Paris City Chief of Police._

"Something wrong, Chief?"

The sudden voice caused her to gasp and jump in her seat a little bit, and she fumbled the nameplate onto the desk. She glanced up at the man who had interrupted her sullen introspect with a glare of defiance, like he had done something wrong. Once she saw who it was, she softened her face again, and motioned him inside. He swiftly entered her office, setting down the white Styrofoam cup on her desk, before taking a position against an adjacent wall.

"Ronnie, don't scare me like that. I didn't even hear you," she sighed in relief.

"Quiet as a mouse, huh? I suppose some stereotypes are true," he said. Indeed he spoke the truth. Ronnie DeBlanco was a tall, sleek white mouse, and it was his talent for being so quiet and smooth in his movements that earned him a prominent position within Interpol, and now he was the 1st lieutenant under Chief Fox at the PCPD. He nodded in the direction of the cup, and Carmelita caught his signal, picking it up and taking a tactful sip of the contents. Her ears perked slightly in surprise as she finished the drink and set the cup back down.

"Wow. I can't believe you remembered," she said with a little smile, looking over where Ronnie was leaning.

"Well, you looked like you could use some cheering up, so I made your favorite. So why don't you tell me about it, Chief? What's got you looking so down?" he asked, moving toward the mid-sized window across from Carmelita's desk.

She gave him a weak laugh as he fumbled with the curtains, allowing the sunlight of a beautiful Paris day to fill the room.

"It's not really that serious. I'm just…a little bored. You know, I took this job under the assumption that I'd be an active participant in damage control in this city. 'Be where the action is', were my words, I believe. But so far, all I've done is sit here at this desk, day in and day out, reading through giant stacks of case files, putting my stamp on police reports, and it's just starting to get to me a little bit. This pretentious little name plaque says I'm the Chief of Police, but right now, I hardly feel like a cop at all,"

Lt. DeBlanco had just finished propping open the window, and turned to regard his superior with a quiet smile. "Is that it? You aren't at Interpol anymore, Carmelita. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You're the one in charge here. Everyone looks up to you, you know?" Ronnie retrieved a chair from the side of the room and placed it right on the other side of Chief Fox's desk. Taking a seat and looking right into her eyes, he continued. "You just focus on getting better, okay? Just leave the day-to-day to me. I promise the criminals will still be there when your arm is healed,"

"Don't remind me," she responded with a slight groan. "But you're right, I guess. Ronnie, thanks for coming over from Interpol to help me out. You were one of the only ones whose work I respected…and who I actually liked. With most people, it was either one or the other,"

"Well, I was honored that you chose me," the white mouse said, "but it wasn't easy to leave Interpol. I logged a lot of hours there,"

"So what made you change your mind?"

"I guess…I just love Paris," he said, turning in his seat to face the window. "My position at Interpol took me to every corner of the world. But my favorite part of the job…was coming back here. This city's like my home, and I wanted to pay it back. Karma dictates that if someone or something is good to you, then you should be good to it as well, and in doing so, achieve the blessings of the universe,"

"I had no idea you were so spiritual. I kind of like that," Carmelita smirked lightly.

"Well, everyone has a system that works for them. I'm sure you have your own methods of achieving your own spiritual center,"

"I prefer to consider myself happily unbalanced. My life has really been an up-and-down ride ever since I got into law enforcement, but I can't really see myself doing anything else. I always figured that if I focused hard enough on my work, everything would work out in the end,"

Ronnie folded his arms with a slight tilt in his head. "Well, whatever works for you. Just a suggestion, though; try not to be so inwardly focused. Working for yourself is good, but you can lose perspective on the outside in the process,"

"Hey, I am very aware of my surroundings at all times!" the vixen shouted, sounding offended.

"Sorry, didn't mean it to be an insult. I'm just saying it's not a good way to keep friends,"

"Now, that's not fair. I have lots of friends,"

DeBlanco did not respond at all, but stood from his seat and gazed down at Carmelita. He didn't say anything. She didn't need him to, she knew what he meant just by looking in his eyes. Carmelita sighed in despondency.

"Well…more like…people I don't hate as much,"

"Uh-huh," he said assuredly. "Look Carmelita, I'm not just your right-hand man. I also want to be your friend. So I'm going to let you in on a little secret. There's no trick to making friends. You just have to be yourself and things will just happen naturally. These people here, they respect you, they want to be like you, and that's just a stone's throw from being friends. All we need to do is get you back to being you,"

He stood up from his seat, turning it to face the window in one swift motion, and went back around to Carmelita's side of the desk.

"So what are you thinking, Ronnie?" she asked curiously as he walked behind her chair.

"Now, it seems to me that this little identity crisis can be put to rest with a few friendly reminders of what you used to be," he said, gripping her by the shoulders and lifting her out of her seat. "Come on, Chief. Follow me," he scolded playfully.

"Hey, watch it! What are you doing?" she struggled against his grasp as he dragged her around the desk. She knew he didn't intend to cause her harm, so these struggles were only half-hearted. She even let loose with a small chuckle as he set her down in the smaller chair on the other side. "I have an arm injury, Ronnie! Cut it out,"

Once she was comfortably seated, he walked in front of her, leaned down, and spoke as frankly as he could.

"You are Carmelita Montoya Fox. You are intelligent. You are a natural leader. You are _fierce!_ You are powerful and we need to get that power back. I'm going to show you how to act like a real Chief of Police," he said, straightening his posture and turning to walk towards the window. "Lesson one: Dealing with subordinates. It's key in any position of leadership to let your employees know what is expected of them. Let's try a little role reversal, shall we? I'll be the Chief, and you be the rookie who just made a big mistake,"

"Now wait just a minute!" Carmelita protested. To her, the idea of her making a mistake at the office was laughable.

"Just play along, okay? I promise this'll be a big help," he smiled back to her.

"Well…if you think this will work…"

"Excellent. Let me give you a few pointers before we begin, alright? Step one, the window. Looking out a window while you're talking to someone adds power to your statements, because it makes the listener feel like they don't deserve eye contact. Step two, only use last names when addressing the underling. This accomplishes two things. One, it emphasizes that you don't respect them enough to use their title, and two, that you don't like them enough to use their first name. Are you following me so far?"

"How is this supposed to help me make friends with the other officers?"

"Baby steps, Carmelita," Ronnie answered. "They respect the position of Chief because it's a position of power, so if you use the position properly, they will respect you. This leads to friendship, trust me,"

"Fine, let's do it. But I want the record to show that I think you're taking way too many liberties with your new position,"

"Noted," he replied frankly. "Okay, and…action,"

1st Lieutenant Ronnie DeBlanco turned to face the window, the sun beating into his face as the "rookie" sat in the chair behind him. The length of his silhouette reached all the way back to where she sat. Sun and wind seem to be blocked from her by his suddenly larger outline.

_He's almost too good at this, and he hasn't even said anything yet._

"Fox, those personnel reports you filed today…Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked gently but with force, almost as if addressing a child.

"Sir, I don't…I don't know what you mean,"

"Think harder, Fox. I want you to tell me what you did wrong," Ronnie said while folding his arms across his chest again.

"Well…was it the new cover sheet? I might have forgotten that…"

"That is _not _what I meant!" he shouted into the wind. The act amplified the sound as it blew back to Carmelita. "The order, Fox! Why were all the files out of order?"

She stiffened slightly as he looked over his shoulder and an almost malicious glint appeared in his eye. She had heard of something like this back at Interpol. She tried to remember what reason that unfortunate rookie had used.

"I…it was…what had happened was…"

"Today, if you would," he said impatiently.

"I got tripped up on the way to the records office, and the files all spilled out of the folder," she explained hurriedly. It sounded like such a weak excuse whenever she heard it from a subordinate, but she put so much conviction into it, she began to understand how they felt.

"And you didn't put them back correctly because…"

"Well…I…"

Ronnie held his hand up at the elbow, a forceful signal to silence her. Slowly, he turned back to face her, seeming to tower over her. His voice grew in volume gradually as he walked toward her, to the point where he was nearly shouting when he finally got right in front of her.

"Look, Fox. I can't hold your hand all day. I'm the Chief of Police here. I've got more important things to do with my day than clean up after your brainless mistakes! I expect you to take responsibility for your actions. If you can't do that, I will be responsible for making sure you're tearing parking tickets outside the local shopping mall for the rest of your natural life! Am I understood?"

He leaned in close, almost making contact with her face, with a burning glare in his eyes, strong enough to burn through lead. Carmelita couldn't bring herself to look directly at him. But almost instantly afterward, like someone had seemingly flipped a switch on his body, he flashed her a wider grin than she thought was physically possible.

"Pretty good, huh?"

In near shock, she gave him a solid punch in his shoulder with her right hand.

"You bastard! You really scared me for a moment there," she shouted, trying not to laugh.

"And that was the point of this exercise…sympathy. Tell me, how did it feel to be in that position, Carmelita?" he asked, circling her chair again.

"I…felt weak. Like I didn't deserve my position. I looked up at you, and I thought, 'that's what I want to be,'"

"Perfect. A true leader inspires his or her followers to better themselves, but it's also important for that leader to understand how they feel. Now that we've established that you want to be Chief, and want the power that comes with it, it's time to see how you use that power,"

Carmelita practically leapt out of the chair and motioned down at it, looking back to where Ronnie was standing.

"Not on me, of course," he said, waving his hands around. "Let's start with someone a little, shall we say, easier?"

He massaged his chin between his thumb and forefinger in a subtle thinking gesture, and finally an idea came to him.

"Why don't I bring Jay up here? You can try it out on him," he said, a mischievous grin growing on his face.

Jay was a white mouse, just like Ronnie. But beyond that, they were complete polar opposites. While Ronnie was smooth, kind, charming, and essentially an all-around gentleman, Jay had to be the rudest, foulest, and most perverted man Carmelita had ever met. Ronnie clearly did his homework. He knew that if there was one person that Carmelita wanted to subject to a vulgar display of power, it was Jay Solansky.

She nodded silently, a mirror of DeBlanco's grin now gracing her face. He clapped his hands in excitement, and moved towards the door.

"Okay, we've got one shot at this, Chief. Let's make it count. Places!" he shouted, prompting the Chief to move to the window. She turned to look outside, marginally spreading her legs in a classic power stance. "Outstanding, Carmelita! You wait right there, I'll go get him right now,"

The Paris Chief of Police stood in silence at her expansive window, letting the gentle afternoon breeze caress her face. Shivering with excitement, she prepared everything she would say to him when he arrived. Carmelita just plain despised Jay Solansky. Back at Interpol, there were many people whom she didn't particularly care for, but she respected the department enough to tolerate them, with Jay Solansky being the only exception. Etiquette and professionalism seemed to fly out the window whenever the two of them were in the same room. He would harass her with some cheap come-on, she would become enraged and beat him mercilessly; it was their own little routine, as natural as breakfast in the morning. She knew that he used to work with her 1st lieutenant DeBlanco on many missions, and it was out of respect to that bond as partners that she gave him a job at her precinct. If it weren't for that, she might have never spoken to that man again.

And yet here she was, about to use that waste of skin for power practice. She heard a short scuffle behind her as Ronnie tossed Jay into the room. She smiled quietly to herself. It was show time.

"Chief, you wanted to see me about something?" Jay asked as he moved toward her.

"Yes. Please sit down, Solansky," she said authoritatively, not turning away from the window. He stopped suddenly and looked for the chair. Once he found it in front of Carmelita's desk, he slipped unceremoniously into it, causing her to cringe as it scraped across the floor.

"The end of your probationary period is coming up, Solansky. I wanted to know…how are you feeling?" she asked in a gentle voice, but still not making eye contact with him.

Jay must have thought she was hiding a look of disgust, because he hesitated slightly in his response.

"Well…sorry. It's just…I'm just a little surprised that you gave me this job. I mean, no offense, but I thought you hated me,"

"Don't be silly, Jay. We have a history, don't we?"

"Yeah. That's why I thought you hated me,"

"Don't misunderstand, Solansky," she said in response. "We may not have been friends, but we were both high-ranking Inspectors at Interpol, and in my book that counts for something. However, I don't want you to think you'll be getting any special treatment because of that. I still expect you to work hard while you're here, and I want you to take it easy on the hard-living while you're off the clock,"

"I've already ditched the cigs, Chief," he said brightly. "Sure was tough, but my lungs are going to thank me in the long run,"

"You've been saying you were going to quit for years, Jay," Ronnie observed from a separate corner of the room. "Good to see you following through on it,"

"Thanks, pal. Means a lot from you,"

"Getting back to the topic at hand," Carmelita forced herself into the foreground of the conversation. "I wanted you to do a few things around here for me today,"

"Uh…sure, Chief. Whatever you need," Jay replied unsurely.

"I want you to set up a meeting with the mayor about expanding the city limits. There's a new neighborhood sprouting up right outside the border…I don't like the look of it. I'd feel better if I could keep an eye on it,"

"Okay…I can probably make that happen,"

"Next, a new shipment of vests came in today. I want you to take them down to the firing range and test their durability." Carmelita sensed a little flinch behind her, and turned her head slightly toward the seated mouse. "Don't worry, it's easy. Just put them on one at a time and go stand in front of someone,"

"Wouldn't it be better if we used dummies for that?"

"Possibly," she answered, turning back to the window. "Third, the coffee machine is fritzing out again, and the second floor restroom is overflowed. Handle that, would you?"

"Okay now. That is not my job," Jay protested a little bit. "Look, I understand that you don't like me, but just because you're the Chief doesn't mean you can push me around however you like. I have rights, and what you're doing just isn't fair,"

"…What did you just say?" Carmelita growled in a low tone. Almost immediately after, a chilling darkness filled the room. In actuality, the sun had just been crossed by a cloud, but there was so much raw, seething emotion bleeding out of that room, it seemed like it had caused the sun to go out entirely.

"Eh-heh, yeah…I'm just gonna…stand over here…for a little bit…" Ronnie said with an awkward laugh, sliding behind Carmelita's desk. She whirled around in fury and used her free hand to stab an accusing finger in Solansky's direction.

"You actually have the nerve to tell me I'm not being 'fair?' Let me tell you what is 'not fair.' 'Not fair' is you getting promoted ahead of me out of the Academy just because you were dating the Director's daughter. 'Not fair' is you breaking up with her two weeks later, then threatening legal action against Interpol if the Director demoted you for breaking her heart,"

"You never told me about that," Ronnie commented in surprise at his old partner.

"Well, it's not something I'm particularly proud of," Jay said, hanging his head low.

"Well you could have fooled me, the way you bragged to all the guys at Adam Goode's Tavern that night," Carmelita remarked fiercely. "But most of all, 'not fair' is me having to deal with someone like you, hurling constant sexual harassments in my direction, in a place of _business!_ I should have done the fair thing and reported every single instance to the Director…directly! See where you would've ended up then. You should be thankful I chose to beat your ass every time you pissed me off. It's the only reason you can still show your face in this country, let alone this police station,"

She paused a moment to catch her breath and reset a few hairs that came loose during her outburst.

"Let me be perfectly frank here, Solansky. If you have a problem with the way I run _my _station, then you can leave, and then I'll tell the entire law enforcement community what a sick bastard you truly are,"

"N-no, Chief. That's fine, sir…ma'am, sir. I'm okay with my ass-beatings, Chief," he stammered in total fear.

"Make yourself available for next Tuesday. _I _will let _you _know when I have a window," she said, walking away from him to join Ronnie DeBlanco behind the desk. The frazzled white mouse reflexively turned his chair around with another loud scrape to face the Chief again. Taking her seat, she continued.

"In the meantime, I mentioned your probation is almost up. Don't think for a second that the fact your former partner is my new right-hand man cuts any ice with me. He may have vouched for you, but I assure you that I am not convinced. You'd better jump through a hell of a lot of hoops to make me believe you deserve this job. If you blow one single assignment in the next three weeks, I swear I will tear out your esophagus with my bare hands, and put it back upside-down. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Chief Fox! I understand completely!" he said, shooting up tall from his seat.

"Then why are you still here? Get to work, _NOW!_" she shouted, causing him to bolt out of the room, disappearing in a cloud of dust.

Ronnie, who couldn't hide his delight anymore, approached the door and peered outside in the direction Jay had run in. He whistled in astonishment and turned back to Carmelita.

"Well, someone's got her mojo back. Look at him run," he said between jovial chuckles. "You sure put the spurs to him. That…was _so…_hot,"

"Yeah…" Carmelita replied, brushing away a small amount of sweat that had gathered on her forehead, but mostly using her hand to hide the blush that formed on her face. "But the strange thing is, I think he sort of likes it. Reminds me of someone I knew back at Interpol." She turned back to her computer and brought up her mail page. "You don't think I was too hard on him?"

"No chance, Chief. You were magnificent! You only gave him what you'd been given all this time. It's good when the universe throws you a bone once in a while, eh?"

"Yeah, especially after being karmically bitch-slapped with a rolled-up newspaper all these years," she sighed. She suddenly took on a look of deep thought and glanced back to Ronnie. "'Karmically' … 'karmically.' Is that a word?"

"It doesn't sound like one,"

"Oh, well," she said with a small shrug. She turned to her monitor and blinked in surprise. "Ronnie, look at this. The Director sent us a message. It's about…well, I'll be,"

"What is it?" he asked, coming up behind her.

"The Director and I have been keeping a regular correspondence regarding international cases that I used to work on, to let me know their progress now that I can't work on them anymore,"

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

"Yes, he's sending me info on the actions of Sly Cooper," she replied. She clicked on the attached web address, bringing up a new page on her screen. The news story detailed a daring daylight break-in of a Japanese museum, which was halted by the curator himself.

"'According to Kenji Hakari's official statement, the trespasser identified himself as an 'independent contractor' who had acquired a stolen exhibit, the Junoichi Emerald, and was attempting to sneak into the museum and return it to its proper place,'" Carmelita read from the article. " 'The curator then asked for the individual's name. He said his name was Cooper, said Mr. Hakari, but he claimed that he was of no relation to the globally recognized master thief, and that the similar name was 'just a coincidence,'"

"Fascinating," DeBlanco whispered to himself. "Like some alternate universe or something,"

"That bastard! He's actually going through with it," the Chief scowled. "Not only is he quitting being a thief, but he's returning things that he stole?"

"Isn't that good? He's out of your hair for good, right? You can work in peace,"

"And I'm thankful for that, but…something's been bothering me about that," she turned her chair around to address him directly. "Because of a logging error at Interpol, the entire case against him was lost, and now he's just quit being a thief. He's going on with his life as if nothing had ever happened. How is that supposed to make me feel?"

"You're overthinking this, Carmelita," Ronnie advised her again. "This is your opportunity to put the past behind you, as well. You're not Inspector Carmelita Fox, the policewoman who failed to catch Sly Cooper. You're Chief Carmelita Fox, head of the City of Paris's entire police force. Doesn't that sound a whole lot better?"

"No argument here, but I still can't help but feel a little disrespected. It's like…has everything I've worked for just been a waste? Does he think that little of me that he won't even acknowledge what we've been through?" She laid her head down on her desk, tired after her broad introspect. "I don't know, Ronnie. What do you think?"

He positioned himself behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Honestly, I think I'm not the one you should be telling all this to,"

"You mean, talk to him? Tell him all this stuff I'm feeling? Impossible," she said, brushing away one of his hands.

"You can't bottle this up, Carmelita. Both of you need to move on, and to know that the other has moved on, and it won't happen unless you discuss these feelings," the white mouse said soothingly. She still wasn't entirely convinced that it was a good idea.

"Suppose I actually did want to talk things out with him. It's not like I can just contact him and say 'I want to talk to you.' You know he'd take that out of context,"

Ronnie scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe you can arrange a meeting through an intermediary. You know, have the two of you meet somewhere in the interest of a third party, and then steer a conversation in that direction. Is there someone the two of you have in common?"

"Ronnie, that's it! Hang on, I'm writing it up right now," she exclaimed, pulling her keyboard towards her, and beginning to type furiously.

"You're going to send him an e-mail? How?"

"I'm the Paris Chief of Police, and as such I'm assigned a professional work-related email address in addition to my personal one. It's public information released on the PCPD website, and as a result, I was contacted by Sly recently. He didn't say anything in particular, just that he was sending me a message so I would have his email address,"

"He trusts you _that _much?"

"We have a history," the second time she used that phrase today carried a lot less sarcasm. "Besides, he's not an on-the-books criminal, so technically I couldn't arrest him if I wanted to…Done!"

She read her email over again to make sure she was happy with it, and pressed the send button on her screen.

_Sly,_

_I'm going to see Athena tonight. You will meet me there at midnight._

_Chief Fox_

"A little succinct, isn't it?" DeBlanco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That's all I need to say, and that's all he needs to hear. Simple as that," she replied.

"So who's this 'Athena?'"

"Athena is Sly's half-sister. We met her almost a half-year ago, and that emerald was actually at the center of that whole situation. I…well, things got a little bit crazy back then, and…sorry, but I don't really want to talk about this…"

"Hey, I understand," Ronnie said compassionately. "We all have our own problems; you don't have to share if you don't want,"

"Thanks. Anyway, Athena's being kept at the big hospital outside of town, being treated for a severe psychological disorder, and I promised Sly I'd check in on her from time to time. I was due for a visit soon anyway,"

"You want me to come with you?" the 1st lieutenant suggested to his superior.

"Unnecessary," she answered simply. "Besides, I'll need you to run the show while I'm gone,"

"At midnight? You think we'll be that busy?"

"The freaks all come out at night. Isn't that the saying?"

The tall, gleaming officer of the law nodded assuredly and smiled.

"Got it. You can depend on me, Chief,"

"Good," she said, getting out of her chair with a small groan directed toward the sting emanating from her left arm. "Damn this thing… Meantime, I noticed the new recruits are having training day exercises. I'm going to go down and supervise. You should get back to work, too…Lieutenant,"

"Right, Chief," he responded, heading for the door. "Well, see you later Carmelita. Remember what we talked about. Have a good day, alright?"

"Yeah," she nodded with a little smile, watching him leave with a powerful look of achievement on his face.

_That guy is getting way too comfortable in his new position. I should take him down a few pegs tomorrow. Oh well. Crisis of identity over. Look out Paris, the Chief is coming for you!_

_Needs a little bit of work…_


	7. I Am Jack's Immaculate Memory

Chapter 6: I Am Jack's Immaculate Memory

"Hey Sly, we're here,"

Murray nudged the raccoon awake as he pulled into the lot. Sly had only nodded off for a little while on the ride over, as the clock displayed that it was a few minutes before midnight. Naturally it was dark at this time, but the thick black clouds that obscured any shred of moonlight made it even darker. He was normally wide awake at this time of night, but waking up early that morning played hell with his system. It was clear he needed more time to adjust.

"Alright, I'm up," he yawned audibly. "Thanks for bringing me over, Murray,"

The two of them had come alone that night. Bentley decided to remain at the hideout, and rest up from his long day of research. That was what he said, but Sly thought that it might have been he wasn't too eager to see Athena again.

"…And, sorry about our guy's night, man," he added.

"No worries, buddy," Murray replied. "We'll just do it another time, right? Well, have fun in there,"

"You aren't coming in, Murray?" Sly asked, exiting the van and touching down on the pavement.

"No thanks. She's your sister, Sly. I wouldn't have anything to say to her. Besides, with Carmelita there, I'd really feel like a fourth wheel,"

"Actually, that's…never mind. You'll be alright out here by yourself?" the raccoon said, standing outside with the passenger door ajar. After receiving a nod of approval from Murray, he shut the door and proceeded to the front of the hospital. After he took about ten steps away from the van, an explosion of noise behind him made his breath stop briefly and his heart jump a little bit. Quickly, he turned back to see his crew's van, pulsating with the blare of the radio. Sly shook his head and laughed to himself, turning again to approach the building.

He came upon three people standing by a large garage door, engaged in some conversation. By their attire, Sly could tell that two of them were hospital security, and they were the first to acknowledge him by gazing in his direction. The third person, standing closest to him, turned to face him. The dim light of the hospital's exterior only highlighted a few parts of her figure, but Sly knew those curves so well, he could see them in the dark. She slowly took up the wide brim of the black felt hat she'd been wearing, and flashed him a calm grin.

"Right on time, just like always. Very nice," she addressed him with an unusually bright tone.

"Carmelita…uh, hi. You…look different," Sly replied, suddenly very tense. She was truly a stunning individual. Tonight she had opted against her traditional police wear, and was sporting a fine red satin dress (_perfect match to her lipstick_, Sly noticed) and a matching black jacket. A shimmering black leather handbag draped her shoulder, and a stately diamond pendant hung on a gold chain around her neck. She was so positively radiant, it took Sly several seconds before he realized he'd been staring at her. He chuckled oddly, and turned his gaze down, scratching at the back of his head.

"I feel different, thank you," she smirked, stepping forward with light clicks of her high-heeled shoes. The vixen lifted his head with her right hand, and circled him a few times. "You know, you didn't have to get so dressed up just for me,"

Suddenly, Sly realized what she had meant. He also was not wearing his usual attire, but instead was wearing an understated black denim getup. A simple jacket and jeans combo, one without all the pointless zippers and chains that seemed to fly off the racks in town, something that he never really understood. He couldn't help but feel a little ashamed. Compared to her, he looked like some common street punk.

"I'm trying out a new look," he said in his defense, looking down at himself. She had gotten back to her original position and appeared to be thinking something over. "It doesn't work?" he asked hesitantly.

"Well, I can't really say. We don't see too much of each other…outside of work. Now that I think of it, I don't really think I've seen you wearing anything else,"

"It's not like I wear that all the time," Sly remarked on his thieving clothes. "Sure, it gives a freedom of movement I don't get from regular clothes, but it doesn't breathe very well. And after a while, it chafes like you wouldn't believe,"

"And thank you for that charming image. That one's going right in the scrapbook," she rolled her eyes in mock disgust.

They laughed together. It had been ages since they'd done that, Sly thought to himself. He released a long sigh and looked up into her deep brown eyes.

"Hey Carmelita…it's really good to see you again,"

"Yeah, yeah…you, too," she responded grudgingly. "So how's the arm?"

Sly pulled up his sleeve to reveal the cast. "Still not quite there. The bones were set a while ago, we're just waiting for them to fuse. How about yours? I notice you aren't wearing your sling,"

She lifted her left arm slowly. "I don't have to wear it for casual encounters, only at the office, to avoid using it too much. They stitched up all the wounds, but there's still some partial numbness, because of all the nerve damage. It's been an issue…"

"Because you're left-handed?" he asked.

"Because I've been restricted to paperwork," she answered sharply. "How did you know I was left-handed?"

"Well, it's just something I picked up on while we were…working together?" Sly commented, drawing a mean look from Carmelita. "You don't like the term, I know. But we did help each other out a lot back then,"

"That's a different conversation. Please continue,"

"Well, back when you first started chasing me, you used to hold your shock pistol in your right hand. And, forgive me for saying, but you didn't have a chance of hitting me back then. At first I thought you were just a bad shot. But later on, you surprised me. You started getting a lot closer, when you shot at me with your left hand,"

"I'm surprised you noticed," she stated calmly. "Yes, I am naturally left-handed. But I've trained myself to shoot with both hands, in case one of my hands becomes incapacitated. It's a standard police technique. I only lose a little bit of my accuracy when I shoot from the right side,"

"How about that," he whistled in admiration. "And here I was thinking you were never that serious about catching me,"

"Well, you can just drop that little fantasy right now, Cooper," Carmelita glared with her arms partially folded.

"That's fine. I have others," he suggested with a wry smirk. That look prompted Carmelita to glance aimlessly around the parking lot, drawing a curious look from Sly. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a shovel," Carmelita replied. "You seem so intent on digging your own grave, I thought it would come in handy,"

"Oh my goodness," the raccoon exclaimed. "Carmelita Fox, was that a joke? That was pretty good,"

"Well…I guess we've both done a lot of changing lately," she sighed off-handedly. Almost immediately after, the skies opened up and released a light battery of rain onto them. She reached up and felt the moisture against her hand, and glanced back to the doors. "We should go inside, Sly. It'll get worse out here before it gets better,"

They began to walk side by side to the entrance of the hospital, with Sly walking a few steps ahead upon reaching the door. He swiftly pulled it open, and ushered Carmelita inside. It was just as they entered the lobby that the rain started coming down in full force.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Sly distantly pondered. "It was raining that night, too. Just like this,"

The Paris Chief of Police had largely ignored his reminiscing, and proceeded to the front desk. She placed her hand down on the counter, loud enough to get the young clerk's attention, but not so loud as to cause a disturbance.

"Oh! Inspector…I mean, Chief! Good to see you again. You're here to see Miss Athena, right?" the desk attendant asked brightly. After receiving a quiet nod, she retrieved her phone and dialed up a number. "Dr. Spice?" she said once the line connected. "Chief Fox is here to see Athena…okay…yes, I see…I'll let her know, Doctor,"

"What's going on, Jen? They can't see us right now?" Carmelita queried. The young golden lioness behind the desk hung up her phone again and began straightening some files laying in front of her.

"Sorry. Miss Athena's in a counseling session with Dr. McSpeedy right now. It may be a while before they finish,"

"I don't know any Dr. McSpeedy. Is he new?"

"Oh, yes. Just joined Dr. Spice's staff last week. Tom is a very bright young man, and dead handsome to boot. Miss Athena's really taken a liking to him,"

"Is that right?" Sly inquired, who had been listening in for a little while. "I think I want to meet this guy, too,"

"And you are?" Jen asked in response. "I don't think I've seen you around here,"

"Sly, you haven't been to see her yet?" Carmelita asked in disbelief.

"'Sly?' You're Sly Cooper, the world famous raccoon thief?" the receptionist asked, her eyes lighting brightly.

"No, that's not me. You must be thinking of someone else," he grumbled under his breath, hiding his face by pretending to brush the hair from his eyes.

"This is a mental hospital, Sly," the policewoman reminded him. "For criminals? They know who you are. You don't have to do that here,"

The desk clerk passed them a ledger, which they both quickly signed. Pulling it back to her side, she folded it shut and pointed to a door to the right of her desk. "Waiting area is through there. Make yourself at home. We'll notify you when Miss Athena is ready,"

Sly nodded in appreciation as he headed for the next room. Carmelita closely followed, adjusting her leather bag's strap on her shoulder. The double doors swung open loosely, revealing a multitude of chairs and couches, low tables filled with old magazines, and office-style water coolers situated in the corners of the room. The furniture in the room was all by itself; there were absolutely no other people anywhere. Sly looked up at a corner of the room and spied a small security camera.

"I'm guessing these cameras are visual-only?" asked the raccoon as he took a seat on one of the couches in the middle of the room.

"So you know, then," Carmelita responded, sitting down on a small cushioned seat directly across from him. "I asked you here at midnight because there wouldn't be anyone else here,"

"You want to talk to me about something," he stated flatly, putting up his feet on the table.

"That's right," she nodded. "I have to ask you something important,"

She pulled the bag she'd been carrying off her shoulder and laid it down on the table. "Sly," she began, "when Jen asked you if you were Sly Cooper, you denied it. That doesn't seem like you,"

"Something on your mind, Carmelita?" he blinked slowly, unbuttoning the top clasps on his jacket.

"Why are you acting like you aren't who you actually are?" she stumbled through the question she wanted to ask, and afterward gave a look like she wasn't satisfied with it.

"Well…it's kinda hard to explain," Sly responded, reclining back into the couch cushion. "Whenever people hear the name 'Cooper', they think of the family of raccoon thieves who only steal from other criminals. That's all our name means to them. For a long time, I was okay with that. But lately I've been thinking: is that all we're meant to be? I mean, my destiny was etched in stone the minute I was born into the Cooper bloodline. Can you imagine what that's like? To know exactly what you're going to be before you even learn to speak?"

"Maybe just a little bit," Carmelita remarked. "I'm not big believer in fate or anything, but I did discover my passion for law enforcement at an early age, even if I was…kind of forced into it by an abusive relative,"

"Sounds like a personal matter, and I won't force the issue, but that right there is my point," he announced while using his finger to trace a pattern of dots punched into the tiles on the ceiling. "We were forced into our own lives. I didn't want my life to be tethered to thievery just because of my last name. That's not fair to you or my friends, you know? That's why I choose not to recognize myself as a famous Master Thief. True as it may be, I'm trying to distance myself from that part of my life,"

"And that's just so obvious to me when you pull stunts like this," Carmelita retrieved a folded sheet of paper from her bag and handed it across the table to Sly. He glanced down from his drawing on the ceiling, and took the paper out of her hand. Folding it open, he began to read the text, immediately recognizing it as a news story detailing his appearance at the Takinahara Art Museum in Japan.

"Huh, I didn't think it would be this publicized," he shrugged as he tossed the paper onto the table.

"This came to me from the Director of Interpol himself. Did you think I wasn't going to find out?" she sneered menacingly.

"Hey, come on now," Sly put up his hands in defense. "You're acting like I did something wrong,"

"Trespassing, B and E, impersonating an officer," the Chief counted off the offenses on her fingers. "Far less serious crimes than your usual grand theft, mind you, but crimes nonetheless,"

"First off, I identified myself to Mr. Hakari, so I wasn't 'impersonating' anything. And breaking and entering? He _let_ me into his office,"

"After he found you hanging by one hand outside his window," she scoffed. "That constitutes conspiracy to commit burglary, Cooper. Yeah, it's really clear that you mean to give this whole 'giving up crime' thing your best effort,"

"Would you stop it with the theatrics, please?" he sighed loudly. "I think the important thing here is that I'm trying, and I think you of all people could acknowledge that,"

Carmelita expressed her annoyance by snatching up the paper and crumpling it into a small ball. "Fine," she growled. "Don't even think about how all this is affecting me,"

"What do you mean?" Sly asked, taking down his feet.

"You're trying so hard to forget about your past…are you trying to forget me, too? All the work I did, and all the time I spent trying to catch you…for you to just forget all about it, is that how much respect you have for me?"

"That's just amazing, Carmelita. Here I am, at the greatest turning point of my life, and all you can think about is yourself. I have a life outside of you, you know!"

"Now who's being theatrical? I'm sorry if you think I'm being selfish, but it's just the way I feel,"

"Look, I know I can't change what happened in the past. I'm not so foolish as to think I can just forget about all of it, either. I know it'll always be there. But putting the past behind you and moving on with your life, and just forgetting it altogether…those are two very different things. I promise I'll always remember the things we went through together, okay?" he said, placing his plaster-casted hand over his heart. "So, don't worry about it. As long as I have you to remind me, I'm never going to forget. What do you say? Friends?"

Carmelita, who had listened absorbedly to Sly's detailed explanations, balked slightly at this proposition. "Friends? Isn't that going to be just a little bit difficult?"

"I like to think we always got along really well, so why not?" he said, holding his hands out in an inviting gesture.

"Goodness, do all your friends shoot at you whenever they see you?"

"Just the ones that _really_ like me,"

His final comment drew a charming laugh from Carmelita's lips. Once again, he found himself mesmerized by her. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and spoke to her again.

"I always thought you were beautiful when you were angry...but you know, you're even prettier when you smile,"

"Take it easy, Speedy Gonzales. Why don't we start with 'friends', first?" she laughed.

"Well, I…"

He was about to answer, when the vixen across from him jumped a little bit in her seat, and reached for a side pocket in her jacket.

"Hold on, Sly. That's my phone," she stated, flipping open the handheld device. "This is Fox…oh, hello Ronnie…"

Sly opened his mouth to say something, but Carmelita silenced him with one finger and continued talking on the phone.

"Yes, I'm still at the hospital…yeah, she's in counseling, might be a while…Really?…Isn't that something you can take care of yourself?…That big, huh? Heh, sounds like fun…Okay, I'm on my way. Don't start without me!…Alright…You, too," she snapped the phone shut with one hand, and addressed Sly's current wide-mouth gape.

"Sorry, but I have to get going. Some genius tried to break into a car right across the street from the station. He's making a big fuss in the interrogation room, and I want to get back before the other officers take all the good parts,"

"And who is this Ronnie?" Sly asked with an unusually stark tone.

Carmelita smirked brightly in response. "I have a life outside of you," she said, standing up and moving to the exit. "Stay out of trouble, ringtail. We'll be in touch,"

With that, she pushed open the door and disappeared into the lobby, leaving Sly by himself in the lounge area with his thoughts. Or more like, it was a single thought.

_What the hell was that?_


	8. I Am Jack's Ruptured Perceptions

Chapter 7: I Am Jack's Ruptured Perceptions

Dr. Thomas McSpeedy emerged from the lower levels of the observation hall, clutching a damp towel in his right hand. He casually strode past the table were his superior was poised silently over a security monitor, and placed the towel into a basket by the storage closet. After preparing the coffee machine for another long night, he returned to the table to hear Dr. Spice breathe a long, deep sigh.

"What's going on, Tivo? What's so important that I had to cut short Athena's counseling?" he asked, leaning over the tiger's shoulder.

"It seems we have guests," Dr. Montevo Spice replied. He directed his partner to the scene in the waiting room, and adjusted a knob to bring the picture to a greater focus. "Mr. Cooper is here to see the subject,"

"That's Sly Cooper, huh? Then that must be Carmelita Fox," Tom said, pointing to the woman sitting across from the raccoon.

"You know her, McSpeedy?" Tivo asked, picking up one of the many folders scattered on the desk. He folded open the cover and passed the contents up to his newest aide.

"I've read some things, yes. Her name was in the papers a lot the last couple years, especially in regard to Sly Cooper. She was a top-ranked Interpol officer, but recently left to become Chief of the Paris City Police. And according to this," he regarded the sheet of paper in his hand, "she was the one who committed Athena to this facility. It's a little strange to me that Sly consented to leaving Athena in the care of an officer of the law,"

"Speculation, Thomas," the older physician remarked, "has no place here. As doctors, we deal in facts. And the facts are, Fox is a policewoman, and the subject is a criminal. I do not find anything strange in that. In fact, it seems very routine,"

A small ringing sound permeated the air, accompanied by the wispy scent of a fresh pot of coffee. Tom glanced back to the machine, and gave Tivo an indifferent shrug of his shoulders on the way back towards it.

"You know, I've been working with her for a while now, and I haven't seen anything to make me believe she's as dangerous everyone says. I mean, besides Clockwerk living in her mind, but he's easily controllable now," Tom added, pouring the coffee into two foam cups.

"Is that your impression, McSpeedy? She's not that dangerous?" Spice asked snidely. "Maybe you would like to see the photos of the crime scene at that Japanese market? It looked like something out of Saw 3,"

"Well, there's no possible way of knowing if she killed all those people herself, or if Clockwerk was in control of her mind when it happened," the young jaguar reasoned. He returned to the table and set down the cups. He pulled a chair up to the table and sat down next to Dr. Spice, fixing his vision on the two people conversing in the waiting room.

"McSpeedy, in a court of law, there's not much difference between 'I killed a large group of people' and 'the ruthless killing machine living in my brain made me kill a large group of people,'" the senior feline doctor stated. "At least here, we can try to control the subject's psyche with effective treatment,"

"And exactly what kind of 'effective treatment' is that? She's been here going on five months, and all you've done is chain her to a mattress, stare at her, and spray her with water if she gets too frenzied. You know, she told me you haven't even spoken to her. Not a single word, Tivo. Do you think they would approve your disregard for Athena?"

"I will not have you second-guess my methods, McSpeedy," snapped Dr. Spice. "I and my treatments have yielded positive results from the most criminally insane patients on this continent long before you came along, and as long as they continue to yield said results, I couldn't give two shakes of a hamster's hind parts if anyone has a problem with them,"

Tom McSpeedy blinked in surprise, and inched his chair away from the seething striped tiger. He took a long drink from his white foam cup. "Well, that sounds like something a doctor would say," he said uneasily. "Hang on. Take a look at that, Tivo,"

They both turned their attention back to the security screen. The finely-dressed woman in the waiting room rose from her seat and moved toward the exit to the main lobby. With a quick look back, she disappeared through the swinging doors and continued through to the front doors.

"That's odd. Is she leaving?" Tom posed the question, puzzled.

After breathing a sigh of relief, his staff mate responded, "It's just as well. I do not like accommodating that policewoman. Her presence always agitates the subject. She is just so…_abrasive_,"

An odd intonation on the last word drew a curious glance from Dr. McSpeedy. He slipped out of his seat and walked behind his colleague's chair. "Well, what's this? Do I detect a hint of pining in your voice, Tivo?" he asked jokingly.

"Don't push it, McSpeedy. You know I have no interest in things like that," Tivo answered with a sneer, gazing fixedly into the observation area, where Athena sat alone at the edge of her bed.

"And why not, buddy? Perhaps the two of you are 'more alike than you care to admit?'" Tom asked, mimicking Montevo Spice's thick Spanish accent. "I mean, look at the two of you: you're both Latin, you both have short tempers, you're both passionate about your work. Except for the lab coat and the silly haircut, she's exactly like you," he added, running one of his hands through the frizzy golden tangle on top of his senior's head.

Dr. Spice swatted the intrusive hand away without turning away from his view of the infirmed raccoon woman. "I have no desire to pursue a relationship with a woman who is exactly like me. And even if I did, I would not seek it in an environment such as this. We are here because we have a job to do, and you would do well to remember that," he ended his reply with a cold glance in Tom's direction.

"I understand that you've been opposed to my approach to Athena's treatment," the spotted jungle cat shook his head, "but I think you might be misunderstanding something. I don't have any interest in Athena other than making her better. Still, I understand that she deserves to be treated as a person, and not as some lab experiment,"

Tom rose from his chair forcefully, and deposited his drink container in the plastic bin by the door. Turning back to face the other doctor, he continued. "I don't mean to be rude, Dr. Spice, but frankly, we've tried it your way and it isn't working. So now I'm going to try my way. Why don't we just see who fixes her first?"

"If it is your intention to make the subject's psychotherapy into a silly little game, McSpeedy," Tivo scoffed, "I will not indulge you in that regard. You may continue to counsel the subject as you see fit, but I expect you to drop that childish concept entirely. There is no necessity for the two of us to compete over which of our methods is more effective,"

The jaguar growled shortly under his breath, then slowly nodded, "You've got a point, I guess. I'll go down and bring Mr. Cooper up. Can you get the room ready for visitation?"

The two of them continued to stare at each other, their eyes communicating everything they needed to say, until Tom turned and exited the room in with an angry huff. Montevo turned in his chair and reached for the intercom to the room below.

_What a silly little child he is. If there were to be a battle of experience, it is no contest. Still, I cannot allow him to think he's won. I will show you, McSpeedy, that I will not lose to you. If anyone is going to cure the subject…_MY_ subject…it will be me._

He swiftly pressed down on the connect button, the static buzz causing Athena to sit up straight on the edge of her bed. She glanced up at the one-way window above her, curiously gazing at her own angled reflection as a voice suddenly came over the speakers.

"Athena, can you hear me?" the voice asked softly.

She narrowed her eyes in mild confusion. "Dr. Spice? You're…talking to me?" she replied in a strange tone. She lifted herself off the bed with a light groan and approached the window.

"I know it's against my principles," he sighed, "but you are a very special case, Athena. You look weak. Would you like something to eat?"

She lowered her head down and lightly placed her hand on her stomach. Glancing back up to the window, she nodded, a vaguely pitiful look in her eyes.

"Alright then. I'll have something prepared for you," he said, giving her a smile he knew she couldn't see. "In the meantime, you have a visitor. Mr. Sly Cooper is here. Do you want to see him?"

She gulped heavily at the mention of Sly's name. She had been looking forward to the day when he would finally visit her. But now that the victim of her diabolical actions from so long ago was right outside her door, she didn't know if she was ready. It would be the first time that they would meet not as brother and sister, but as just two people who had little to no connection to each other. And the greatest connection they had was the cause of all of Athena's misery. In the end, she decided it would be better to do this now in spite of that. She would prove to herself that even with the monster Clockwerk occupying her mind, she could still establish her own identity.

"…Okay," she answered slowly.

"Okay, Athena. Please stand back while I open the partition. I don't want you to get hurt," the doctor said. He slid out of his chair and walked over to a switch on the wall. He eyed it carefully before pushing it down with a single finger. There was a small grating noise as the wall directly underneath his observation window began to sink into the ground. Athena was assaulted by a bright light created by a profoundly white room, containing only a single wooden chair and table, and a window that separated the room from one exactly like it. "Please have a seat. Mr. Cooper should be arriving shortly," he instructed her over the intercom.

Athena walked slowly through the archway into the waiting room, her legs uneasy as though they hadn't been used in years. Pulling the chair out and sitting down with a sigh, she waited in silence for door in the room across from her to open. Montevo Spice watched Athena disappear under his window as she entered the visiting area of her confinement chamber. He turned his head to the left to another monitor mounted next to the switch, which gave him full view of the small white room. After a few moments, the golden tiger approached a telephone next to the coffee maker in the corner of the office. He picked up the receiver and dialed a number. Once the line opened, he spoke quietly into the phone.

"Cafeteria?…Yes, this is Dr. Spice. Could you prepare something special for Ms. Cooper?……Yes, that's right……You have my permission to use my…'private stock,'"

Several floors down, a smoky gray form paced the floor in anticipation, his mind racing over everything that had passed in the last few minutes. He had so many questions, and there was no one there who could answer them. He couldn't go on like that, he had to talk to someone. The raccoon pulled out his phone and flipped it open. His two major contacts were the first two numbers on his speed dial. He forcefully pressed in the '2' on the keypad, and held the phone to his ear. Soon after, Sly's sense of hearing was nearly annihilated by a massive flash of music coming out of his earpiece. He held the phone away from his head, and adjusted the volume before bringing it back.

"Murray! The music!" Sly shouted, making sure his driver could hear him.

"SORRY!" he heard a voice yelling over the noise, followed by a quick decrease in volume coming from the other end of the line. Sly released a sigh of abasement and clutched at his forehead. "Sorry Sly, I really like that song. So what's up?" Murray said through the connection in his van.

"Carmelita just left. I'm in here by myself now," Sly informed Murray.

"Yeah, I just saw her leave. So what happened in there? You seal the deal or what?" the hippo asked.

Sly roughly sighed and replied, "Murray, I told you it's not like that,"

"I know you did," the wheelman nodded. "I just don't believe you,"

"She had to go back to the police station to interrogate some lowlife criminal. I gotta tell you, Murray, it feels kinda good and bad not to be on the sharp end of that stick," he said, abandoning his pacing and setting down on his former couch.

"I'm with you on that one, buddy. It feels great to stay out of trouble with the law, but honestly, I kinda miss the action. I haven't punched anyone in, like, months,"

"Yeah…" Sly trailed off, closing his eyes and taking slow, deep breaths. "Hey Murray. What do you think? You know, about me and Carmelita,"

"Uh…really, I don't think about it that much. That's your business, you know? But since you asked, I think your denial of any feelings toward her is an affirmation of your promise to us that you'd give up the game, 'cause your criminal life and your relationship with her are so tight-knit. right? But…how can I say this…when a woman in your life means as much to you as she does, it's hard to let her go. I think you feel like you need to hide your feelings from us, because you think if you go after Carmelita again, you'll be betraying us. But let me offer this advice: Love isn't supposed to be kept secret, Sly. The heart wants what the heart wants, as the saying goes. Just go with it, buddy. We'll back you up no matter what happens, 'cause that's what friends are for,"

Sly straightened himself up in his seat, and held the phone in front of his face with a look of disbelief. He cradled the cellular device under his ear, and laughed silently as he tended to a sudden itch behind his ear.

"Murray…that was…awesome. You're a lot better at this 'chick game' than you've been letting on,"

"Well…I've been reading books," Murray answered sheepishly.

"We have got to do this guy's night thing soon. Some lucky girl has to snatch you up ASAP, man,"

"I'm right here, man. We can do this anytime. So, are you coming out? You know, since she just left and all," Murray pondered to his friend.

"No, not yet," Sly replied. "As long as I'm here, I might as well see how Athena's doing,"

"Alright. Just give me a heads up when you're on your way out. Later," Murray called out, severing the line right after.

Sly snapped his phone closed with his free hand, and stuffed it back into his pocket. He sunk back into the cushion, trying his best not to fall asleep. His body was used to being well-rested at this time of night, and the sensation of being so tired at one in the morning was new and confusing to him. He was just on the brink of nodding off, when the creak of the swinging doors behind him signaled the entrance of another person into the waiting room. He turned his head and glanced over his shoulder, spotting a gleaming white lab coat draped on the shoulders of a golden-specked jaguar, roughly his age and height. He groaned with minor effort in standing from his seat, and stared back at the man across the room from him.

"Mr. Sly Cooper?" the doctor asked, receiving an affirmative nod. He reached behind himself, and held open the door, motioning outside. "Sorry about the wait. We're ready for you now,"


	9. I Am Jack's Obfuscated Honesties

Chapter 8: I Am Jack's Obfuscated Honesties

Sly held a steady stride down the halls of the hospital. His eyes wandered to the reinforced doors and tiled walls, shining pristine white under the blinding lights above. He couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable; his surroundings were slightly too clean for his taste. He glanced down to his feet and took note of the tiled linoleum floors.

_Dear God, there isn't even any dirt in the grout. This is just creepy._

Sly knew that wasn't a logical way of thinking; hospitals were supposed to be clean. But something about the sterility of the hall made it seem…deserted somehow. Like nobody had ever settled here. He didn't feel too bad for himself though, because he knew that however uncomfortable he was to visit, he knew it was worse for Athena. She was stuck here, unable to leave while his greatest foe hijacked her brain.

But in the end, he knew this was where she belonged. She was safe here, and there were people who she could depend on to take care of her. And with that thought, his vision trailed back to the center of the walkway, finally locking on the shorter feline guiding him through to Athena. The raccoon was glad that his sister was not only getting treatment at this place, but she also seemed to be making a friend, maybe something beyond that. It would be good for her.

_Dr. Thomas McSpeedy. _

Sly smirked to himself, a slight huff of air escaping from the side of his mouth. The burst of breath made the doctor ahead of him flinch a tiny bit, and after a quick stop in the middle of the hall, Tom turned back slowly to face Sly.

"What is it?" McSpeedy asked simply.

Sly responded with a simple shrug.

"I don't know. I was just thinking about how thankful I am that Athena has someone like you looking after her. Seems like you people do good work around here, and I've heard you're not so bad yourself,"

"I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Cooper. I assume it's a compliment, anyway,"

"It is," he nodded in response. "And please, call me Sly,"

"Only if you agree to call me Tom. If we can address each other by first names, it'll be easier to be more open in terms of professional and personal matters,"

"Makes sense to me," Sly said, now widely joyful. "I can see why Athena's so taken with you,"

Tom appeared to grow mildly annoyed, whirling back to stroll down the hall. Confusedly, Sly followed behind.

"Listen, I don't know what you've heard," Tom remarked, "but Athena is my patient. That's it. As a doctor, it's my responsibility to treat anyone who comes to see me in this hospital. I do care about her, though…Just not in that way,"

"Hmm," Sly replied thoughtfully. "That's too bad. You seem really genuine. Honestly, I wouldn't mind if she got together with a nice guy like you,"

"Really?" Tom stopped in his tracks again, and quickly resumed his pace. "I see…"

With a thoughtful scratch of his chin, he continued to lead Sly to the visiting area adjacent to Athena's room. After a few more flights of stairs and another trek down a powerfully white hall, Tom turned back to regard Sly.

"It's not like the thought hasn't crossed my mind, you know? But you have to understand that it's an issue of ethics. At the very least, I'd have to wait until she's cured,"

"Well, that's more incentive for you to work extra hard, isn't it?" Sly answered with a smile.

"I suppose so," the doctor sighed. Finally, they reached the door to the visitor's area. "If I may say, Sly, I think it's amazing that you can show so much compassion for Athena, especially after all the two of you have been through,"

Sly came to a stop four steps behind Dr. McSpeedy. He lifted his arms in surrender and shook his head. "I know it's been a bit rocky between us, but…well, we're family. A guy has to look out for his sister, after all,"

"What?" Tom asked curiously. It took him a few seconds to put the facts together. "Oh! Oh, of course. Yes, family's important." He nodded in agreement. Reaching into his pocket and producing a key, he turned to face the door.

"Okay, Sly," he said. "This is the place; Athena's waiting for you inside. Sorry if it looks more like an interrogation room; the glass is there for your safety and hers. It's just given the nature of our establishment, we don't get many visitors. So we have to make do with what we have." He turned the key in the lock. Tom cracked the door a bit and confirmed that Athena was waiting inside. "Now, per hospital regulations, my partner and I will be upstairs monitoring the room. We are prepared to intervene if anything were to happen. Are these terms agreeable to you?"

"Yes, I understand," Sly responded. "And I'll try not to take up too much of your time. I know how busy you all are here,"

"No, no. Really, take your time. Athena's really excited that you came. But if you can manage it, try not to upset her," Tom McSpeedy warned. "She doesn't hate you, but someone in her head does. Just be on your guard, that's all I'm saying,"

Sly nodded back to the jaguar and passed through the doorway. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for everything, Tom. See you later,"

"See you later, Sly," the doctor repeated. With that final exchange, Sly disappeared through the closing door.

Dr. McSpeedy adopted a hardy look of determination, darting to the nearest stairway. Rushing up to the next floor, he found his way straight to the observation room, directly above Athena's holding cell. He burst through the door with vigorous energy. As he expected, his senior was standing perched over his table, staring into a small television monitor. Dr. Spice did not budge in the slightest. Tom tried again to grab his partner's attention by slamming the door behind him. Finally, the golden tiger straightened his back, and turned to face his protégé with his arms folded in superiority.

"And what would be the cause of this tantrum, McSpeedy?" Montevo asked in an almost exhausted voice.

"He doesn't know,"

"How could he? Mr. Cooper has not been to see the subject before now. To my knowledge, no one knows the truth about her, except for the two of us,"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Which brings up an interesting question, Thomas," Spice smirked. "Why, if you're so worked up about it, did _you_ not tell him about the subject's lineage?"

"It's not that. It's just…I thought somehow he would have figured it out already. I mean, it had to come up at some point, right?"

"I don't see why it should," the older cat shook his head. "It isn't exactly something the subject is eager to discuss. And personally, I don't think it's in the subject's best interest to so openly divulge this information. But if you insist, you may inform Mr. Cooper of the situation if you so choose,"

"No, I don't think I will," Tom answered, imitating Tivo's serious pose.

"Oh? Why the sudden change of mind, McSpeedy?"

"I know it's a little strange, but I have this theory,"

"Indulge me," the tiger requested, returning to his place by the viewing screen.

"Well, I think the reason Clockwerk is able to occupy Athena's mind so easily, is because he's put the idea into her head that she needs him. And the problem there is that Athena believes it. Because without a strong support structure around her, she has no one to rely on but him. That's why I think it's better to keep Sly in the dark for now,"

"I'm not sure I follow, McSpeedy,"

"Sly just told me that he still cares about Athena is because she's his sister. Even though she almost ruined his life, he still feels bound to her by their bloodlines. If he found out she isn't even related to him, much less that she's the daughter of his worst enemy…he might desert her. That would just destroy her psychologically," Tom finished up with a gloomy look into the monitor on Tivo's table.

"So, the alternative is to allow Mr. Cooper to remain oblivious to the situation," Spice nodded with a condescending sneer. "Do you believe that creating an unbreakable bond of family will cause Clockwerk's hold on the subject's mind to weaken? Sounds like wishful thinking to me, Thomas,"

"Maybe so," Tom nodded. "But at this point, it's the best chance we have. Let's just see what they have to say to each other, and see where it goes from there,"

Dr. Spice had retrieved an extra chair from the corner of the room. He brought it back over to the table, and placed it next to his own.

"That really doesn't sound like medical advice, McSpeedy. Maybe you should consider going home and getting some rest. It has been a long day," he said, placing one of his rough, golden hands on Tom's shoulder.

"I don't know…You might be right," the junior doctor sighed. "But I don't feel entirely comfortable about leaving Athena alone here,"

"You mean leaving her alone with me," Tivo replied with an annoyed huff. "I know how you feel about my methods, McSpeedy, but you should not be concerned. I, like you, am a professional. I don't plan to take any measures that would be detrimental to the subject's health,"

Tom paced silently across the floor, thinking over his mentor's advice. He really was tired, and people make mistakes when they're tired. And as a doctor, he couldn't afford any mistakes. Plus, taking a day to get his head straight couldn't hurt. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, and shoved his hands into his coat.

"Okay, you talked me into it. I guess I'll call it a night,"

Montevo Spice nodded in consent and sat down again at his table. "Take care, Thomas. I'll see you in the morning,"

"You're going to stay here all night?"

"Special clearance, remember? I set up a small room across the hall for myself, whenever I need to take a short _siesta_. It helps me cut down on travel time, and gives me more time to observe the subject," the seated tiger stated, pulling some papers from across the table toward him.

"Okay, then. That's not creepy at all. I suppose I'll see you later, Tivo,"

Tom slipped out the door. The wooden frame creaked slightly as it closed behind him, leaving the other doctor alone in the silence of the observation room.

_How that fool ever got to be a doctor I'll never know. All this talk about silly dreams and bonds and fairytale garbage…Ridiculous. You can't just ask Clockwerk nicely to leave the subject's mind, and expect any sort of results. No. What is needed here is action. The kind it seems only I am willing to take. I need to make some phone calls._

With that, he slid out of his chair and approached the phone with great anticipation. Dr. Spice reached into his pocket, producing a small address book. Flipping it open and finding the correct number, he punched the sequence of digits into the telephone and lifted the receiver. After several dial tones, a voice answered on the other side of the line.

"..."

"…Yes, good evening," Tivo began with a casual greeting. "Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I wonder if you might consider taking on a job for me, for old times' sake,"

"…"

"No, I remember what happened,"

"…"

"Yes, I know you're out of the 'rehabilitation' business, but I have a special subject here, whom I think you'll find...hard to refuse,"

"…"

"Not exactly,"

"…"

"Glad to hear it. Usual fee, then?"

"…"

"_Gracias._ As always, a pleasure doing business with you, Milady…"

Gently, he replaced the handset into its cradle, and shuffled back to his seat by the monitor. He slid his hands through his hair to straighten it out, and adjusted his coat to his shoulders before finally hunching forward in his usual 'observation' pose.

_The subject's treatment is progressing faster than I had planned. I may have to skip a few steps this time to achieve the…desired results. One thing is certain, though._

_**This is sure to become much more…fascinating…from here on out.**_


	10. I Am Jack's Infinite Vengeance

Chapter 9: I Am Jack's Infinite Vengeance

The door closed behind him with a silent click. His eyes trailed around the room before him, adjusting to the near-blinding whiteness caused by the lights above. Sly had already begun his slow walk to the middle of the room, his mind preoccupied with the woman sitting on the other side of the window. Athena. His half-sister. However, he also knew, somewhere in her head, he was about to meet his family's tormentor once again. The raccoon drew out the chair and sat down, resting his arms crossed in his lap under the provided table. Athena reached up to her head and drew her hair behind her ear, both still soaked through from a recent 'treatment'. For a long time they just looked at each other. Jade green eyes met a rich chocolate brown, silently conveying complex emotion through eyesight alone. Finally, the infirmed woman behind the glass released a quiet cough and smiled to him.

"The Man in Black returns," she stated, noting his black denim attire.

Sly looked down at himself at back to her. "I wish. Although I have been practicing lately; I'm getting pretty good,"

"Alright, Mr. Cooper," a sudden voice called out above them. Sly's eyesight darted immediately toward the ceiling, spotting a series of small speaker boxes. "That is an adequate test of the sound system. You should be able to hear each other quite clearly, and I will be here monitoring your conversation, as per the agreement,"

"Excuse me, who are you?" he asked with his head turned up.

"My name is Dr. Montevo Spice. I am the physician responsible for the subject's care," the voice replied. "But for now, my task is observation. Please continue your visit as though I am not here. I shall only intervene if the subject…that is, Athena, begins to lose control of her mind,"

_Well, this guy seems like a creep._

"Are you doing alright in here, Athena?" Sly turned his attention back to his troubled sibling.

She nodded in reply. "I'm fine. Dr. Spice takes care of me. And talking with Tom has been very nice as well. It's really not as bad as it looks,"

The visitor studied her for a short time. Her expressions and body motions seemed to suggest she was telling the truth. Sly could not believe how well she was taking what was essentially a long imprisonment. Her attitude was just too upbeat, too perfect. Or so he thought; it could have just been his imagination. Either way, he was relieved.

"I'm glad to hear that, sis. I was worried about you in here,"

"Thank you…Sly," Athena's head downcast at her mention of his name. "Listen, I wanted to say I'm sorry,"

"Athena, you don't need to…"

"Please, Sly," she interrupted him. She brought up a hand to her forehead to soothe a sudden ache, and then continued. "I need to say this. I appeared from nowhere, forced myself into your life, stole the Thievius Raccoonus, and almost killed the person you care for most in the world. I can't allow you to brush it off like it's just nothing,"

Sly closed his eyes tightly, recalling every difficult instance that came to mind ever since he met the raccoon woman across from him. It was something he was prepared to do, but it was still a trial for him to relive the last year. But Sly was not one to dwell in the past. He'd done that most of his life, and it was that drive and determination that compelled him to retrieve the Cooper thieving manual in the first place, and restore the honor of his family. Now that he had, he decided that it was not something he could continue to do.

"Okay, Athena. If you feel that strongly about it, I can accept your apology," Sly said with a nod. He brought his hand up to the top of the desk, producing a small piece of paper.

"Do you remember this, Athena? It's the note you left for me the day after our fight in Japan. I went to see you at the hospital, but they said you couldn't have any visitors because of your injuries,"

Athena leaned forward to peruse the note, recognizing the handwriting as her own. "Yes, this is my note. I thought you'd come to see me, so I wrote it out for you before they put me down with the knockout gas,"

"It showed me how to get to the place where you stashed the Thievius Raccoonus…and the Junoichi Emerald," Sly said, adding the last statement with a small stammer.

"Just my way of saying thank you," she smiled at him. "Sorry about the code. I couldn't risk just anyone reading it and finding those things,"

"Yeah. Thank goodness for Bentley, or they would have been lost forever," the younger brother responded, a chuckle escaping his lips. "It was tough even for him, though. We only recovered the items just last month,"

"I hope you enjoy them, Sly. Really, they're all yours now,"

"Actually, Athena…I decided to give the emerald back. It's in the museum it came from now,"

The grin that had plastered itself to Athena's face vanished in an instant. Suddenly, a sullen look of sadness crept its way in. She felt betrayed, and contrary to what she had just said, she was hoping that Sly would hold onto the gem as a reminder of her, and the times they had spent as a family. It might have been unrealistic to think that Sly would want to treasure those times, but it was different for her. Looking back on those times with her 'brother', and looking at where she was now, those were some of her happiest times.

"I…don't understand," she exhaled, her voice cracking from sobs of disappointment. "Sly, why would you want to do something like that? I worked so hard to get it. I really wanted you to keep it in your family. What happened to the Cooper legacy, and honor and all the other things you said?"

Sly lowered his head with a small shake. "I still believe in all those things, I really do. But the Cooper legacy…well, to be bound to a life of thievery just because I have a name…I just can't do it anymore. I believe it's time for me to test my true limits, and find my true life's calling. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'll find it,"

Athena slammed both her fists down on the table in front of her. Not even looking at Sly anymore, she growled as low her gaze was turned. "Promise me…promise me that this is not about that…_Carmelita Fox,_"

The male raccoon on the other side of the glass stood up from his seat. He pressed his hand against the window with a hard stare of honesty. "I swear to you, Athena. She has nothing to do with my decision. This is something I chose to do on my own. It's time for me to move on…Athena?"

He stopped his explanation short when he noticed her start to shake visibly in her seat. The lights around the room started to flicker. Little droplets of water started to shiver and rise out of Athena's hair. His gaze quickly recoiled into a look of fear. He suddenly grew concerned. Incredibly so. Could this be the beginning of a very serious situation? Slowly, Athena raised her head and looked deeply into Sly's eyes. Sly was relieved that her eyes were not glowing some strange color, but the look she had on her face told a different story. And when she spoke again, Athena confirmed Sly's fear.

"Cooper, you foolish little child," she scowled, adopting a slow, droning pitch.

"Oh. Hello, Clockwerk," Sly said, settling back into his seat. "I see you're still floating around in there, you rusty bastard,"

"You cannot run from me, Sly Cooper. No matter where you go, or what you do. I _will_ find you,"

"Is that right?" the raccoon sighed, trying to sound disinterested. "Because I would say it's the other way around. Seeing as how you aren't going anywhere, I would say _I'm_ the one who can always find _you_,"

The ancient bird dwelling inside Athena snorted violently from Sly's comment. "You smug raccoon. When I get out of this place, I swear I will personally destroy you,"

"Considering how many times I've heard that from you in the past, somehow I don't exactly feel threatened," Sly shot back. He was starting to enjoy messing with his enemy a little bit.

"Sly, I have been killing Coopers for centuries upon centuries. Do you think you are the first one to resist? This temporary confinement will not prevent me from tearing out your spine through your eye socket. Preferably the left, but I will take either one,"

Sly looked up to the ceiling, directing his view toward the speakers built into the corners. "Hey, creepy doctor guy! Shouldn't you be doing something about this?"

"Mr. Cooper, my task is observation. From what I have observed to this point, Clockwerk has not done anything to you, violent, crazy or otherwise, nor has he done anything to endanger the sub…Athena. Perhaps it is best to hear what he has to say," Dr. Spice answered over the loudspeaker.

"Are you kidding me?" Sly exclaimed, tilting his chair back slightly and waving the air in anger. "All this guy has to say is 'I will kill you' this, and 'I am superior to you' that. Let me tell you, after three years of that, it gets kind of annoying,"

The Cooper's nemesis sat motionless in the seat behind the glass. Athena's lips curled into an evil smirk under Clockwerk's influence. "No one is making you stay, Cooper. Like you say, you can leave any time you choose,"

"I didn't come here to talk to you, full metal jackass," Sly snapped. "I came tonight to see my sister, Athena. So say what you have to say, then go to your room so I can talk to her again,"

"I see…You are still in the dark, then?" Clockwerk cackled, widening the evil grin on Athena's face. "How cold of the good doctors. Surprising that they have yet to tell you,"

Sly leaned forward roughly, glaring hard into Athena's green eyes. "Just what are you getting at?"

"Truthfully, I was hoping that you would figure it out on your own. Think very hard, Cooper. Think back on everything you know about Athena. What drives her? Why does she exist?"

Sly scratched at his head and blinked slowly, putting together the best answer he could. "Athena is…a Cooper, just like me. She's driven by honor, family…"

"And vengeance," Clockwerk interrupted. "She was attacked from behind one day, and from then on, could think of nothing but achieving retribution. Now consider this, Cooper raccoon. What has she done? Erasing your criminal history from Interpol's records? If you were to disappear tomorrow, no one would notice. Curious, is it not?"

"So she wanted to keep me out of trouble with the law. What exactly does that prove?" Sly wondered aloud.

"Not just that, Sly. Her dedication to revenge, her theft of the Thievius Raccoonus, her frequent attempts on the lives of your loved ones…Do they sound like the actions of a Cooper?"

A massive shiver traced its way up Sly's spine at the chilling realization, and his fists impulsively slammed into the table before him with enough force to shatter it. He stood arched over the table, eyes wide and staring into the evil soul across from him.

"That is it, Cooper. You have it now. They are all things I would do. They are things…_my daughter_ would do,"

Sly's face seemed to retract into itself from the powerful wincing, as though the information he'd taken in was the greatest pain he had ever experienced. He left his chair and began pacing the room with a feverish look on his face. Occasionally, he glanced back to Athena, infuriated that the shell was sitting prim and unfazed, as though Clockwerk had just asked him to Sunday dinner. He looked up, then down, not really sure where he should direct his eyes. The floor under his feet, so white and clean when he'd entered the room, now sported a faint ring of gray brought on by his footsteps. A few deep breaths later, he was ready to return to his seat. Sliding up to the window and resisting the urge to smash it to bits with his fist, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"How?" he asked weakly.

"I see no need to go into all the details with you, Cooper. In summation, I was experimenting with several fail-safe procedures to extend my lifespan and continue my crusade against the Coopers at the same time, should my body ever be tampered with or destroyed. Considering our past history, I would say this was a wise decision on my part. At any rate, Athena Cooper was the result of one such experiment. Of course, this was just a name I assigned to her, because as we have established, she is not related to you at all,"

"You've established _nothing_," Sly asserted with brimming rage. "All you've done is throw out a line of BS that you expect me to bite on. You've been after my family for ages, Clockwerk. If you expect me to believe a single word you say, you've malfunctioned more than even I thought possible,"

"How dare you, Sly Cooper," Clockwerk growled, now standing in front of his side of the glass pane, forcefully pointing a digit into Sly's face. "I am a lot of things to many people. Thief? Of course. Killer? Again, the answer is yes. But I take serious offense to _anyone_ who calls me a liar,"

"I'd like to see you prove it's true,"

"And I would like to see you prove that it is not," Clockwerk replied. "The fact is, when you destroyed my tower in the Krack-Karov Volcano, you erased any evidence of my experiments from the face of this Earth. You have absolutely no choice but to believe my words, Cooper,"

Sly huffed in frustration, but finally started to come down off his fit of rage. "Whether or not what you've told me is true, I really don't care. To me, Athena is still a Cooper and my sister, and I'll stick with her even it means occasionally having to deal with you,"

"Let it sink in, Cooper. Give the information time to settle, and see if you feel the same way tomorrow. You may decide to never come back again," the menacing bird droned calmly, with a hint of malice.

"Tomorrow, next week, next year. However long it takes, I'll keep coming back, until you are no more," Sly stated with pride. "Huh, sounds like something you'd say,"

Suddenly, the cell phone in his pocket began to ring and vibrate. Sly lifted the device to his ear and flipped it open. "What's up, Murray?" Sly asked.

"We got trouble down here, Sly," the driver announced. "A bunch of guys from the hospital were saying my music was too loud, so they called the city to tow the van away! I'm doing all I can to keep them back, but I - HEY! You take one more step toward this van, and I'll wear that face for Mardi Gras, pal!"

"No, no, no. Murray, do not pull anyone's face off. I will be right down," Sly commanded, snapping the phone shut again. He turned back to where Athena, or rather Clockwerk, was still sitting. "This isn't over,"

"Agreed, raccoon. You'll see me again. By that, I mean I'll remove your eyeballs and turn them backwards, so you can watch me open your ribcage,"

"Charming," Sly responded flatly. "Hey, Dr. Creepshow! When Athena comes back, tell her I'll be back to see her soon,"

With that final command, Sly bolted out of the room and let the door slam tightly behind him. There was a brief static noise as the intercom speakers accenting the room were deprived of power. Directly above Athena's still-possessed body, a tile flopped open on a hinge, providing an unblocked connection between the visitor's area and the observatory above. The trapdoor was just large enough for a person to fit through, as illustrated by Dr. Montevo Spice's sudden entry into the visiting room. He landed with a small crouch behind Athena's chair, carrying with him a metal bucket hung over his left elbow. He stood up and strode closer to the seated patient.

"I can see why you don't much care for him," Montevo observed.

"It would be so much easier if you would just let me kill him,"

"I'm afraid that I cannot allow this. The time has yet to come. If you were to be released in your current state, it would be far too dangerous for all associated parties. So please wait just a little longer,"

"You do not deserve a fraction of my patience, Spice. You have been nothing but a hassle from the very beginning," Clockwerk snapped, leaving his seat and turning to face the golden tiger behind him.

"I'm sorry, Clockwerk," the doctor sighed, removing the bucket from the crease in his elbow and taking it into his hands. "But please go back to sleep for now,"

In a display of blinding speed, the bucket in Dr. Spice's hands lurched forward, propelling a modest quantity of water directly toward the figure in front of him. The liquid missile cascaded off of the subject's body, finding rest on the table and window behind her as well. Athena's eyes fluttered shut and she fell to the ground from her standing position, totally unconscious. The doctor nodded assuredly to himself, reaching for a small radio device on his belt. He held it up to his mouth and pressed a button on the side.

"This is Dr. Spice. I need a team up to the observation room to put the subject to bed. The meal we prepared will have to wait. Be sure to have it wrapped. It would be a shame to waste good spice like that,"

Secretly unknown to Montevo Spice, another pair of ears was secretly scanning the upstairs room from the other side of the door. Originally thought to have left for the night, he decided to stay a while longer. Taking up a temporary residence in his partner's rest area across the hall, he waited silently with his ear pressed to the door. He trusted his feline hearing abilities up until the lead physician cut off the intercoms.

_Looks like I made the right choice. I knew Tivo was up to something. Damn. I can't hear them too well with the speakers off. I have to find out what he's planning, before something happens to Athena._

Miles away into the center of the city, the Paris PD central station was almost empty. The only signs of life were the last remaining officers coming in and out of the interrogation room. The lights were still on in the hall, as the second in command patiently sat on the bench, winding down after his last turn. The first string offense was on the field now, doing what she did best. She had come from the northern psych ward in such a rush, she hadn't had time to change out of her dress. He could imagine what that degenerate in that room was possibly thinking. Being psychologically beaten, berated, otherwise destroyed by a steaming hot vixen in a tight, red satin dress. He stopped his imagination there, before it got way too far. He sat there with his fingers laced across his lap, suddenly startled the swinging doors nearby slamming open. The Chief emerged, smiling victoriously with her arms crossed over her chest.

"We got him, Ronnie," she declared.

"Not like it was hard," he replied from his seat. "We saw him doing it. But as always, your technique is amazing,"

"Thanks. I like to keep them on a string for a while, before I bring them in for the final stroke," Carmelita nodded. "You know, I said I wanted most of the fun for myself, but you didn't need to send everyone home,"

Ronnie shrugged casually in response, "It's been kinda slow tonight. Besides, once I knew you were coming back, I knew that everything would be just fine,"

"Stop feeding my ego, _chico_. I can't promote you any higher, you know,"

"I'm not complimenting you to get a new position, Chief," Ronnie shook his head with effort. "I'm quite happy with the one I have now. Speaking of positions, how did things go with Mr. Sly Cooper tonight?"

"It all came together like a dream, Ronnie. The dress, the conversation, the way you came in at just the right time with your call. You should've seen him squirm," the Chief grinned.

"Like I told you he would," Ronnie nodded. He stood from his bench and walked right in front of the satin-clad vixen. "I'm glad I got a chance to be a part of it. You really do look great tonight, Carmelita,"

Carmelita Fox brought up a hand to her lips and released a charming little laugh. "Why, Ronnie DeBlanco, if I wasn't so sure that I'm your boss, I'd say you were propositioning me,"

The tall white mouse took up Carmelita's hands with his own, and gazed into her eyes with deep meaning. "That's such an ugly word, isn't it? I will say that yes, I do care for you. I would even say I like you…a lot. But I'm not going to force you into anything. I want _you _to tell _me_ if this is what you want,"

"Well…that's interesting," she said, not really knowing what else to say. Then something came to her. She still owed him this from earlier today.

"Too strong? I'm sorry, I should've toned it back a bit, I guess," he said regretfully.

"No, it's not that. I'm just thinking…I may have to make a decision sooner rather than later," she smirked. "You do realize you have a little competition, after all,"

"Not Sly Cooper?" Ronnie asked, stepping back in disbelief. "No, Carmelita. I thought you were going to put that part of your life behind you. What do you think will happen if you pursue these thoughts?"

"Really, things are different now. We're both changed people, and I feel like we could be a bit more serious about it this time," the fox stated with her eyes shut. She began to stride past her 1st lieutenant, making her way back to her office.

"You're backsliding, Carmelita. You're treading down the road of ultimate self-destruction," he warned.

"You make it sound like I'm in rehab,"

"Sly Cooper _is_ dangerous for your health,"

"Well, just make sure you have a fruit platter at my intervention," she responded with a playful smile. "I'm a grown woman, Ronnie. I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself,"

She proceeded down the hall toward her own office, purposefully provoking the mouse behind her with some exaggerated hip motions. He could only stand there by the entrance to the interrogation room, contemplating the entire events of the day. And his thoughts always came back to one subject.

_So, Sly Cooper. That's how you want to play this game? Fine. It's not really my style…but I'm good at working that way, too. I won't let you ruin her life again, Sly Cooper. I promise you this. _


End file.
